


The Great Sealand Takeover

by whalehuntingboyfriends



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - GTA, Angst, Fake AH Crew, GTA AU, Hurt/Comfort, Jealousy, OT6, Romance, Slow Build, based on the heist world sort of, because there aren't enough stories showing how they actually get together, in which everyone has secrets and relationships get complicated, mentions of past abuse/torture, more of a criminal AU, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-14
Updated: 2015-01-25
Packaged: 2018-02-13 03:53:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 30
Words: 365,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2136012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whalehuntingboyfriends/pseuds/whalehuntingboyfriends
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the mysterious and very dangerous ‘Edgar’ starts moving in on Geoff’s territory, he’s not amused. He is even less amused when Edgar targets his boyfriend, Jack - forcing him to team up with mercenaries Michael and Ray to stop him. Things do not go as planned and suddenly they’re all stuck together, on the run and working to bring him down - along with Ryan, the ‘mad mercenary’ who holds a grudge against Edgar, and Gavin, a data analyst with his own secrets.</p><p>And of course, because things aren’t already complicated as hell, they just have to start falling for each other.</p><p>(slow build AH-OT6, criminal/GTA AU)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is not so much a GTA AU as a criminal AU based loosely on the heist videos.
> 
> So very many thanks to Angelology (youre-my-bois) for all her invaluable help, advice and feedback. :)

Michael did not sign up for this shit.

It was all Geoff's fault. Geoff “it'll be so fucking easy” Ramsey, who had led him to believe that they would waltz into the hideout of this mysterious 'Edgar', put the fear of God into him with some well-timed explosions and the murder of a few of his henchmen, kill him if he still refused to back off Geoff's territory, and be out of there without a scratch.

“He's not nearly big as he thinks he is,” Geoff had informed them. “He'll have like half a dozen guys there, you and Ray can take them out easy. We'll have the element of surprise, too.”

The element of _fucking_ surprise, yeah right – because the plan looked great on paper but somehow, somewhere along the line, something had gone _wrong_ because Edgar was most _definitely_ expecting them.

Half a dozen men? More like an entire God damn _army_ , loaded up with SMGs and just waiting for them to arrive.

And now, here Michael was – crouched behind a wall near the abandoned warehouse, bullets peppering overhead and Ray bleeding all over his new shoes – waiting for Jack to come and get them the hell out of there.

He was not fucking impressed.

 

* * *

 

It began, Geoff had told Michael shortly after hiring him, on a Tuesday morning.

Geoff had planned a gentle little heist, the target a grocery store run by a man who owed him some money. Nothing big or fancy, just something to make sure the residents of Achievement City still knew who was their large and in charge criminal overlord.

Except when he got there – with Jack, of course, to back him up – the police were already there. The store had already been robbed.

Someone had fucking gone and hit his target before him.

“So I thought it was a coincidence,” Geoff had informed Michael, “But then it went and fucking happened _again_.”

This time it was a rather more serious business; a heist in a neighbouring city that Geoff had been planning for a while. Himself, Jack, and half a dozen hired guns hitting a bank in the inner city.

Yet again, they arrived just in time to see the police milling around, leading traumatised hostages out of the building. On the news that night it was reported that a man wearing a rubber cow head mask had robbed the bank at gunpoint along with a number of others. He had gotten away with millions and the police could find no trace.

Geoff was pissed, to say the least.

And then it happened a _third time_ , this time back in Achievement City, his home turf.

The target: a rare painting being transported through the city as it was moved between museums. It was worth a pretty penny and Geoff had kept his plans a meticulous secret.

This time the target wasn't robbed before he could get there.

Instead, someone had tipped off the police, and the painting was under such a heavy guard that even Geoff wouldn't risk going after it.

“Sounds like someone's fucking with you,” Ray said, when Ramsey reached that point in his story.

Geoff nodded, taking a swig of whiskey, his pale eyes burning with irritation.

“That's what I thought,” he replied. “But the asshole wasn't done there.”

Indeed not, because the next thing 'the asshole' targeted was Jack.

It began with a mugger – nothing Jack couldn't deal with on his own, of course, and not even that rare of an occurrence in Achievement City. But when people started attempting to rob him literally every day of the week – and then, after a while, _multiple times each day_ – well, that was fishy.

It didn't end with mugging, though. The next few people who tried to jump Jack weren't just after his money, they were after his life – and they were no common hooligans either. It wasn't long before Geoff caught wind of the fact that someone had put a hefty price on his boyfriend's head – and it was only with a lot of threatening, shows of power and a few bribes that he managed to clear the water enough for him to feel safe again.

“The last guy we caught,” he said, tugging agitatedly at the end of his moustache, “The one who tried to stab Jack – after I shot him in the dick but before I shot him in the head, he told me who'd put out the hit.”

“Who?” Michael demanded, quite caught up in the story by now. There weren't many people who'd dare to go up against Geoff Ramsey.

“Edgar,” Geoff intoned darkly.

Ray and Michael exchanged glances.

“Edgar,” Michael replied. “Who the fuck is _Edgar_?”

“I have no idea, but he's a dick and – oh, I forgot to mention, he also keyed my audi.” This last had Geoff's facial hair practically bristling in wrath. “Didn't just key it, either, he scratched a fucking _picture of a cow_ into the paintwork. I'm going to kill this wanker and I will pay you to help me.”

“First name isn't much to go on,” Ray pointed out. Always the strategic one, that one, whereas Michael's main area of expertise was blowing shit up.

“I've asked around,” Geoff replied. “Word is he's holing out in an empty warehouse in the outskirts of the city. Hardly anyone's heard of this guy; he can't be all that big. With all four of us in, it'll be easy as dicks.”

Michael glanced at Ray again, who shrugged. It certainly sounded like an ideal job; they had worked with and for Geoff in the past and things had always gone without a hitch – with quite the reward in the end for them as well.

“Sounds good to me,” Michael said. “We'll wreak havoc on this prick for you, don't worry.”

Except he should have worried – they _all_ should have – because despite their meticulous planning, despite their carefully selecting a random night and walking the last few miles to the warehouse so as not to attract attention – despite everyone playing their assigned roles to perfection (Michael blowing the warehouse door with charges, Ray and Geoff coming in guns blazing, Jack sniping from a distance) –

Edgar was waiting for them with his little army of machine-gun-wielding, assorted masked farm animals, and Michael was fucking _certain_ he was smirking behind his stupid cow mask.

“Hello Geoffrey,” he had intoned, voice slightly muffled under layers of rubber, “How nice to finally see you in person.”

And then they opened fire, and somewhere along the line Ray ended up shot, and they bid a hasty retreat – which led to them here, crouching behind the stupid brick wall, Michael hardly daring to peek up over it to try and get a shot off because the machine guns were still going strong.

Geoff was somewhere to their left, Michael could hear him swearing, and his heart was pounding too fast because Ray just _wouldn't stop bleeding_ and Jack really, really had to get a move on because he wasn't sure how much longer they'd last here-

With a screech of brakes, the black, armoured car pulled into the warehouse drive, bulletproof panelling causing their attackers' shots to bounce harmlessly away.

“Get in!” Jack hollered, sticking his head out the driver's side window.

Michael scrambled to his feet, ducking as another shot rang out by his head. Grabbing Ray under the arms, he hauled him up and half dragged, half carried him into the back of the van.

“Geoff,” Jack called, peering out – Geoff was still trying to get a shot off on Edgar. “Geoff, get _inside_!”

“We don't have the asshole yet,” Geoff spat back.

“We'll all be _fucking dead_ if we don't leave now!” Michael shouted, and reluctantly climbed back out again. He grabbed Geoff's arm and the man jerked around so violently that for a moment Michael thought he was going to get punched.

But the barrage of machine gun fire still wasn't letting up, and even the bullet resistant glass of the van wouldn't hold up forever. Geoff hesitated a second longer before climbing up into the back of the van, and Michael quickly followed. They were barely inside before Jack took off down the road, back towards the city.

For a few hair raising moments he thought Edgar would pursue them, but he didn't – the roads behind them remained clear, and as they pulled around the hill, the warehouse vanishing behind them, all was silent except for their laboured breathing.

“ _Fucking hell_ ,” Michael gasped, finally, and then, “Ray!”

Ray waved him off. “'m fine. Hit my head when I fell, that's all – it just grazed me.”

Michael crouched by him anyway, batting his hands away as he inspected the wound. Ray was right; the shot had grazed the side of his brow, but head wounds always bled a lot anyway – he was more worried that Ray was concussed after slamming his skull against the ground when he fell.

Angrily, he rounded on Geoff.

“What the _fuck,_ you told us he wouldn't be expecting us!”

“I didn't think he'd be!” Geoff shot back, fists clenching. He looked more pissed off than Michael had ever seen him. Any lesser man would be intimidated, but Michael had plenty of rage of his own and _holy God_ was he annoyed right now. It had been a long, long time since he actually feared for his life, and if there was one thing he hated it was being taken by surprise on a job.

“Well, he _was_ , so how do you explain that then?!”

“Michael,” Ray spoke up, putting a hand on his arm. “He was smarter than we thought. Happens.”

“It _shouldn't_ happen,” Michael growled, but sat down slowly.

Geoff was still scowling, and Jack was casting him worried glances in the rear-view mirror.

“I'm going to kill him,” Geoff declared. “Fucking smug son of a bitch. Did you see him standing there fucking smirking at us like he thought he was so much better-”

“He was wearing a mask,” Ray pointed out, helpfully. “Couldn't really see his facial expression.”

“I could _sense_ it,” Geoff insisted. He slammed a fist against the window. “How the fuck did he _know_?”

A tense, angry silence fell, during which it took the rest of the drive back to Geoff's apartment for the man to figure out why, exactly, Edgar might have known.

“ _You,”_ he bellowed, coming to this moment of realisation as he sat in his living room downing a beer, turning towards the kitchen counter where Michael was dabbing at the wound on Ray's head and snapping at him not to complain when it stung.

“What about us?” Michael asked, turning to him.

“We were the only four people who knew about the plan,” Geoff growled, his gaze darting between them. “It wasn't me and it wasn't Jack so it must have been you two.” His hand was going to his gun and Michael reacted with alarm, grabbing for his own weapon.

Ray swung himself off the counter and raised his hands.

“Calm down, Geoff,” he said, “Michael and I didn't say shit. We don't even know who this Edgar _is_ , why would we be working with him?”

“You _say_ you don't know who he is,” Geoff snarled. His gun was still trained squarely at Michael's forehead. “How am I meant to trust you?”

“Geoff.” Jack's voice was quiet but stern. He had a hand on Geoff's shoulder, but Michael wasn't very reassured since Jack was starting to look suspicious as well. “No need to start shooting at people just yet.”

“He _shot Ray_ , as if we're fucking working with him-”

“So who was it then, huh?” Geoff demanded. “Who else could it have been-”

Things were going to get ugly, Michael could tell – he was angry, and Geoff was angry, and two bad tempers with weapons drawn didn't exactly have a favourable outcome.

But before anything could happen, there was a sudden, loud knock at the apartment door.

They all froze.

Geoff glanced over his shoulder at the hallway leading to the door. Then he looked at Jack, who shook his head slowly, obviously having no idea who it was.

“Don't fucking move,” Geoff said quietly to Michael, before lowering his gun and heading off down the hall.

Michael put his weapon down as well, letting out a huff of breath. With Geoff out of the room, the adrenaline and tension of recent events drained away, leaving him nothing but exhausted.

“We didn't do shit,” he said to Jack, who nodded, though his face was still guarded.

“Geoff's on edge,” Jack said. “Edgar's been getting a rise out of him and targeting me really didn't help. Be that as it may... _someone_ ratted on us, and only the four of us knew about the plan.”

“Nearly got _us_ killed as well,” Michael grumbled. He turned back to Ray, who gave a small smile, obviously seeing his worry.

“I'm _fine_ ,” Ray insisted, reaching up to stick a plaster over the graze on his head. The sticky parts caught in his hair and Michael reached forward to help him out, taking the chance to study his expression. Ray was a chill bastard most of the time but this had him rattled; Michael could see how tense his shoulders were.

“Been a while since someone got the jump on us though,” Ray continued, and huffed out a laugh. “Not the best feeling.”

“You can damn well say that again,” Michael began, but trailed off as Geoff re-entered the room.

And that's when he froze, hand instantly going to his gun again. Ray straightened up, letting out a low curse as he drew his own weapon, and even Jack stepped forward with pistol raised.

Because walking in behind Geoff, face hidden behind a mask that was spoken of with infamy on the streets of Achievement City –

Right there in the room with them was the man who had killed more people than all of them combined.

Ryan fucking Haywood.

 

* * *

 

To say Geoff was stressed was the understatement of the century.

Fucking _Edgar_. Who was he? Why had he suddenly made it his life's mission to completely ruin Geoff's existence?

It was easy to act angry, to go on and on about teaching the bastard a lesson and getting him back for all the misery he'd caused – but when it came down to it, Geoff was worried. And things didn't worry him often.

Edgar was just so totally unafraid of him, and Geoff had spent a good decade building up his reputation.

“This better not be a fucking salesperson,” he called out as he approached the door, absolutely not in the mood for being interrupted.

He looked out the peep hole, but whoever was there was standing to the side, and he could only see a shoulder and some light brown hair.

When he swung it open, however, his breath stopped.

Ryan Haywood.

He'd recognise that mask anywhere – anyone would. It had been on the news a hundred times. Ryan Haywood the killer, the murderer, the mad mercenary who took jobs and bounties seemingly at random and never came close to being caught. One hundred percent success rate. When Edgar first put that hit out on Jack, it had been Ryan who Geoff had nightmares about – your average bounty hunter he could take on, but this guy – this guy was the assassin from hell. Last Geoff heard, though, he'd been on the other side of the country. Not here in Achievement City.

“Fuck,” he breathed – had Edgar sent Ryan after him? Would he seriously just show up at his front door if he had? – he reached for his gun but to his surprise, Ryan raised his (thankfully, empty) hands.

“I come in peace.”

It took a moment for the cogs in Geoff's head to process this.

“ _What_?” he ground out, finally.

Ryan pulled his gun and Geoff flinched back – but next thing he knew, Ryan was handing it over to him. He snatched it quickly, though he didn't doubt there were a hundred other weapons hidden on the man.

“Heard you had a run in with Edgar today,” Ryan said, surprisingly conversational. “I'm here to help out.”

“ _Help out_?”

“Yes,” Ryan said slowly. “That's what I said. I've got beef with Edgar, and I'm guessing you do too – I'm also guessing that today you learned the unpleasant lesson that he's smarter than we give him credit for.”

Geoff frowned, unsure what the hell to think – but before he knew it, Ryan was stepping into the apartment.

“So I'm here to help take him down,” he said, and gestured vaguely towards the living room. “I take it your crew's in there?”

“Yes, but- why the hell should I trust _you_?” Geoff demanded.

Ryan turned towards him and he got the feeling that there was a raised eyebrow behind that mask.

“Because,” Ryan said slowly, “I could have killed you before you even opened the door. I could have killed your boyfriend a few weeks ago, when every hitman in the city was out for him. The price on his head wasn't cheap. But I didn't, because I fucking hateEdgar and I intend to put him in a hole in the ground. And you're going to help me do it. We both know each other, Geoff, we've heard the stories – this could be the alliance of the century.”

Geoff bit his lip. On the one hand, it was Ryan. On the other...

Edgar had him very concerned, and if the best mercenary in the city wanted to help him out – who was he to refuse? And it wasn't as though Ryan had ever targeted him before. People in his city, yes, but the two of them had never come up at odds.

“Fine,” he said. “Let's see what we can do to help each other.”

Naturally, as soon as they re-entered the living room, the other three reacted with the expected alarm. Geoff quickly stepped in front of Ryan, who he could swear was _amused_ by the fact that everyone was pointing guns at him.

“Chill out, guys, he's here to help us.”

“Help?” Michael spat. “Geoff, do you even fucking know who that is?”

“Of course I know,” Geoff said. “We all do.”

“Hi,” Ryan said, and waved.

Michael's mouth dropped open. He didn't lower his gun.

“What the hell is he doing here?” Jack asked quietly.

“As I told Geoff,” Ryan said pleasantly, “Edgar and I have some... unfinished business. I've been meaning to go after him for a while but the guy is cunning, to say the least. I never had the manpower. But with your help...”

“I think you mean with Geoff's help,” Michael cut in, and Geoff glanced at him in confusion. Michael was putting his gun down now, reaching out to grab his bag from the counter, and then Ray's arm. “We've done what you asked us to do,” he continued, turning to Geoff, “So pay us and let us get out of here before someone else gets shot.”

“I'm afraid you can't do that,” Ryan said.

Michael stared at him challengingly. The kid had balls, Geoff had to give him that; standing up to Geoff was one thing, Ryan Haywood quite another.

“Why the fuck not?”

“Did Edgar see your faces?” Ryan asked. “It doesn't matter, he's probably had eyes on you for a while now. He knows you were working with Geoff which means now you're targets of his as well.”

“Targets?” Ray asked. “What does that mean?”

“It means by now he knows who you are, where you live, and the locations of all your contacts,” Ryan said. “He'll be out to get you – all of you.” The mask swivelled to stare at each of them, and Geoff began to feel even more uneasy.

“I've seen him do this before,” Ryan said. “The guy's a fucking psychopath. He sets his eyes on something he wants – in this case, Achievement City – and he'll take down anyone in the way. It's only going to get worse, and not just for Geoff. We need to stop the bastard.”

“Ray and I have nothing to do with this,” Michael insisted. “We'll get out. We'll run.”

“Or we could kill him,” Ray suggested, and Michael turned to him.

“He just shot you in the fucking head, let's get out while we can.”

“Already too late,” Ryan spoke up. “But with my help, it's doable. We can take him down.”

“What's your plan?” Geoff asked.

Ryan gestured for them to sit down, but none of them did. There was a slightly awkward silence. Then he shrugged.

“Like I said,” he continued. “He's clever. So we've got to be smarter than him. First things first, he's got surveillance on you – so we need to move.”

“Move where?” Jack asked.

“Your oldest hideout, the one you haven't used in the longest time,” Ryan said. “Something far back enough that it's something he hasn't seen since he started watching you.”

“Can do,” Geoff ground out, “but what's the actual plan to get rid of him?”

The cold, blank stare of the mask fixed on him again.

“Geoff,” Ryan said patiently, “How do you normally take someone down? Someone powerful, someone who you don't quite know the reach and capability of? What's the first thing you do?”

Geoff stared at him, but it was Ray who answered.

“You take down their network,” he said, and Ryan gave an approving nod.

“Clever boy. We need a hacker, a specialist – someone who can help us track him down, tap in and get a good look at who his inner circle are. Then we take down his people first. No one is a threat on their own. Except me, of course,” he added. “But really. What's a king – or in this case, a cow – without his army?”

Things were starting to fit together. Geoff had to admit it was a better plan than rushing in blindly with nothing but bombs and bullets. He had always preferred the heads first, hands-on approach – but for Edgar he was willing to take things slowly.

“I know where to get such a person,” he said.

Ryan nodded approvingly. “Then we're all in agreement? We work together to bring down this son of a bitch?”

“No,” Michael spoke up, and Geoff fought not to roll his eyes.

“Michael,” Ray started, and pulled his friend over to the corner where they began a hushed conversation. To be honest, Geoff couldn't blame them – they were the hired muscle, after all, he'd pulled them into this when normally Edgar wouldn't have the faintest interest in them.

“You're sure about this?” Jack asked softly, and Geoff turned to him.

“What else can we do?” he said. “The guy has it out for us and from what Ryan's said, he's not gonna stop.”

“Since when did you decide you could trust Ryan?” Jack asked.

Geoff glanced over at the man, who was now wandering over to Geoff's minibar and inspecting its contents. It was still a little disconcerting seeing him right there in his apartment, his _home_.

“In all honesty, it was the moment he made a beef pun,” he mumbled, and Jack's lips twitched.

“We just can't be too careful,” he said, and Geoff reached out and pressed his arm.

“Don't worry, I've got my eye on him."

Ryan wandered back over to them and they both glanced up. Ryan's eyes, the only visible part of his face behind the mask, flickered to where Geoff's hand was still on Jack's wrist before he turned his head back towards Michael and Ray, still in hushed argument.

“Didi and Gogo over there better make their minds up quickly,” he commented. “Edgar will move fast and we should get moving as soon as we can.”

“They'll help us,” Geoff said dismissively. “Michael's one to fight, not flee. He's just rattled.”

As if on cue, Michael and Ray stopped talking. Ray reached out and squeezed Michael's shoulder before the two of them wandered back over, seemingly having come to a decision.

“We'll need to get some stuff first,” Ray began, and Ryan nodded.

“Me too. Geoff, send us the location of your safehouse and we'll all meet back there tonight. You and Jack can go and find us that specialist.”

 

* * *

 

 

Geoff had known Burnie Burns for a very long time. While the man appeared to be running an IT company, in actual fact he was renowned for his ability to put people in touch with other people. He had more contacts in a diverse range of places than anyone else Geoff had ever met, all with skill sets that came in handy in less than legal operations.

It was through him that Geoff had heard about Michael and Ray a few years ago, and since then he'd worked with the little duo of hired guns a number of times.

“You're not gonna tell me what this is about?” Burnie asked, as he sat Jack and Geoff down in his office and handed them both a beer.

Geoff shook his head. “Trust me, you don't want to get involved in this shit or people will start coming after you.”

Burnie pulled a face. “Well, from what you _did_ tell me it sounds like you need a data analyst. Someone who can hack into footage for you, keep an eye on the streets – but also track down this guy's electronic footprints. I think I have just the person for you.”

“Good,” Geoff said. “So call him in.”

Burnie hesitated. “The thing is...”

“Oh great, there's a fucking _thing_.”

“It's not a big thing,” Burnie said. “I mean, I'm telling you, this guy's _good_. He's got an eye for detail like I've never seen before. He finds shit on security cameras that I wouldn't even notice. Slows it down or some crap, I don't know. But he's on holiday at the moment.”

“So take him off holiday,” Geoff replied.

“He, uh... he hasn't been taking jobs for the last few months,” Burnie continued. “The last one he went on went kind of wrong and... I don't know. He's just a kid, it shook him up and I don't know if he'll want to get involved in something so dangerous so soon.”

“Burnie,” Geoff said patiently, “I will pay this guy enough money for him to holiday his little ass off in Tahiti or Fiji or wherever the fuck else he wants. Besides, he won't be in the firing line. He just has to find the guy, we'll do all the heavy lifting.”

“I can get you in touch with him, but I can't promise he'll take the job. He doesn't live too far from here, I'll ask him to come over.” Burnie pulled his phone out and walked out of the office, leaving Geoff and Jack sitting in silence.

Geoff took a sip of his beer and stifled a sigh. He could feel Jack's eyes on him and knew the other man was concerned. He had been wound up for the last few weeks, Edgar getting to him – but it felt good to have a solid plan now.

“You alright?” Jack asked after a moment.

Geoff nodded, having expected the question, but after a second Jack reached out and squeezed his hand anyway. Geoff turned towards him, but at that moment Burnie noisily re-entered the office and his eyes darted straight to their intertwined hands.

“Ew, guys, no making out in my office.”

“We were literally just _holding hands_ ,” Jack scoffed, and Burnie shook a finger at them.

“I know you guys. One thing leads to another. I called him over, he'll be here in ten.”

Indeed, almost exactly ten minutes later, a scrawny, floppy-haired young man tripped into Burnie's office. He looked like he'd just rolled out of bed; hoodie half hanging off his shoulders and with a bed head reminiscent of a piece of roadkill, speaking before he even got through the door.

“I told you, Burns, I'm not bloody taking jobs anymore-”

As soon as he caught sight of Geoff his blue-green eyes widened and he straightened up. “Is that...?”

Burnie came up next to him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “Did I neglect to mention it on the phone? Gavin, this is Geoff Ramsey and Jack Pattillo. Geoff, Jack, this is Gavin Free.”

“'sup,” Geoff said, with a half-wave.

Gavin made some rather high pitched spluttering sounds. “You don't have to introduce me to... you two practically run Achievement City! And you want _my_ help?”

“Burnie assures me you're the best,” Geoff replied. “Why? That not the case?”

“I don't... I'm not...” Gavin looked a little lost, and Geoff suddenly found it almost endearing. “I wasn't taking jobs but...”

“But we're talking the most notorious – and richest – man in the city,” Burnie said happily. “Besides, he says you won't have to do any fieldwork. You'll be perfectly fine.”

“And well rewarded,” Geoff added. “Like Burnie said. We'll do all the dangerous stuff. You've just got to sit in front of a computer and get us some info.”

Gavin's eyes widened. He looked a little shellshocked for a moment, then considering. Geoff waited patiently.

“How long will it take?” Gavin asked after a moment.

“That I don't know. Could be two weeks, could be two months. It'll depend on what you find. We're hunting down some guy who has it out for me.”

“And I won't have to do fieldwork,” Gavin said.

Geoff nodded. “Yep. I promise. I'll fucking pinky swear if you want.”

A small smile twitched at Gavin's lips. “That won't be necessary. I'm in.”

 

* * *

 

 

Geoff could tell Jack was itching to talk to him, but they didn't have a chance to be alone. With Gavin in the back of the car, they were now making their way out towards one of Geoff's oldest hideouts – a large house in the outskirts of Achievement City, where suburbs began to stretch out into highways and farmland. It was a property investment from many years ago, on the border where urban turned into rural, and he hadn't been there in so long that he almost couldn't remember where it was. He hadn't had to hide out there for a while – but as with all his safehouses, it was well stocked with food and weapons, and he was pretty sure there was a computer setup in the basement for Gavin to work from.

Speaking of Gavin; he had babbled very nervously for a while about the weather before falling into an awkward silence. After a while Geoff switched on the radio, but the only channel he could find that wasn't staticky was some very fast, exciting banjo music that really wasn't helping the atmosphere.

“Loosen up a bit,” Geoff said finally. Gavin jumped at the sudden sound of his voice, and their eyes met in the rear view mirror. Geoff gave a reassuring smile.

“Seriously, you're tense as dicks and I can see it from here. You're making my neck hurt just looking at you.”

“I- sorry, it's just been a while and you guys are _famous_ , so. And not good famous,” he added, and then winced as he realised how that sounded. “I didn't mean-”

Jack rolled his eyes, looking annoyed, but Geoff couldn't help but give a snort of amusement.

“Don't worry about it. Besides, you're on our side now. You will see us in our natural habitat.” To punctuate this, he let out a loud and tremendously long fart that he had been holding in for some time, thinking this a marvellous way to show the kid that they were all as human as each other.

“Fucking hell, Geoff,” Jack muttered, turning away and covering his nose. Geoff burst into loud guffaws and was pleased to see that even Gavin cracked a smile and laughed a bit. And then fell about gagging.

“Christ,” Gavin gasped, “That's – that's bloody _rank_ , I'm gonna vom.”

Geoff just continued to laugh at him, his particular high laugh that Jack had always described as contagious. Gavin frantically wound down the window, and then complained that the wind was messing up his hair, but he seemed more at ease than he had been the last few hours, which Geoff took as a minor victory at least.

 

* * *

 

“Stop sulking,” Ray said, as they drove.

Michael was not sulking.

True, he had been sitting in a sullen silence since they left Geoff's flat to go back to their apartment and pick up their stuff, but it wasn't a _sulk_. It was a... a... a mature, calculating, contemplative thought bubble.

And he certainly had a lot to think about, because truth be told, he was _worried_ , and worry wasn't really something Michael _did_. He got angry a lot, sure, but long ago he had mastered the art of Not Giving A Fuck, and getting stressed out over stuff – getting _scared_ of things – that was a bit of a novelty.

But that moment, back at the warehouse – the moment that Ray gave a shout and dropped to the ground next to him and the moment that Michael, briefly, thought he had been shot in the head – thought he was _dead_ –

His heart had actually stopped beating for a moment, a wave of pure panic had overtaken him, he had felt cold – frozen – and for the first time in his life, sort of... lost.

He wasn't sure what he'd do if Ray died.

And that was why he'd freaked out – mostly internally, of course – when Geoff suddenly wanted them to help him hunt down his cow-headed tormentor. Why even now, an uncharacteristic unease was spreading through the pit of his stomach at the thought that Edgar might be after the two of them as well.

It wasn't fear for himself.

It was fear for _Ray_ , and the stupidest part was, he had no idea _why_ – it wasn't like they hadn't been involved in dangerous shit before. He knew Ray could take care of himself. He _knew_ that.

So why was he suddenly so concerned for him?

“'m not fucking sulking,” Michael said, grumpily. He was driving, as they made their way out of the city towards the location Geoff had given them.

Ray glanced at him sidelong with something like amusement, and suddenly Michael felt almost embarrassed, a hot flush spreading its way up his cheeks. The thought of Ray finding out that he'd suddenly developed some sort of, what, fucking _motherly instinct_ or something.... it was beyond humiliating.

“I'm just pissed Geoff dragged us into this crap,” Michael ground out.

Ray seemed satisfied with that.

“Could be fun,” he replied instead, only half joking, and Michael rolled his eyes.

“Could be _fatal_ ,” he pointed out.

Ray just shrugged. “Aren't they always?” he replied. “Besides, we're not doing it for free, so. Let's get it over with and get paid and then you and me can take a long holiday somewhere.”

“A holiday for you is just sitting indoors playing video games,” Michael grouched, but the thought did bring a smile to his face.

That smile vanished about two seconds after meeting Gavin.

They arrived at the safehouse with little further trouble. Michael couldn't argue with the fact that it would be a hard place to track down; an unobtrusive large country house on the outskirts of town surrounded by expansive empty land. There were dozens more of them along this highway and from the house it would be easy to see anything approaching. He could see Geoff's car already parked out front, and they were greeted by Jack, who was on door duty.

It was as they were beginning to unload their things that Michael, carrying an armful of weapons, turned into a corridor inside the large house and walked smack-bang into someone.

“Oof,” said the someone, falling back on their ass in a highly undignified manner.

Michael stumbled and everything he was holding dropped to the ground with a noisy clatter. He couldn't help but flinch – none of the weapons were loaded and they all had the safety on, but still. It was the principle of the matter.

“Watch where you're fucking going, geez,” he spat, glowering down at the guy – he reminded him of a flamingo, all giant nose and skinny, gangly limbs that he didn't seem to quite know what to do with. “Who the hell are you, anyway?”

“Sorry,” and to top things off, he was British too, “I wasn't – sorry. I'm Gavin. Data analyst, I'm helping Geoff – Burnie got me.”

Michael would have written him off as clumsy and left things at that – if Gavin hadn't chosen that moment to try and help out, picking up one of the guns and attempting to hand it to Michael by pointing it right at him.

In that moment Michael underwent the revelation that this guy wasn't just a klutz.

He was a _fucking idiot_.

“Jesus fucking Christ, you fucking moron-” He grabbed Gavin's wrist, hard, and quickly snatched the weapon back. “Didn't anyone ever teach you not to point a fucking _gun_ at someone else?!”

“I- is it loaded?”

“No, it's not _loaded_ , but it's the _number one rule of gun safety_. Don't point it at anything you don't want to shoot!”

“Oh. Sorry. That does sound familiar.” And then he _laughed_ , nervously, and rage began boiling up inside Michael again as he gathered the rest of the weapons up.

“Of course it sounds familiar, it's fucking _common sense_. Stop laughing, you idiot. You won't be laughing when you shoot someone. Or when my foot takes a trip so far up your asshole it's navigating through your small intestine.”

The raw anger in his tone made Gavin snap his mouth shut, eyes wide and suddenly uncertain. By that point the shouting had brought Ray and Geoff over.

“Everything okay here?” Geoff asked, glancing between the two of them with raised eyebrows.

“Everything's _peachy_ ,” Michael snapped. “I've just met the guy who knows fuck all about weapons and will get us killed through his own stupidity after ten seconds.”

“He doesn't need to know about weapons,” Geoff pointed out, “He just needs to know how to track down Edgar. And he won't get us killed because he'll be staying here, in the house. Gav, that's Ray,” he added, pointing at Ray who waved, looking far more amused than was pleasing to Michael. “And the shouty asshole is Michael.”

“Hello,” said Gavin, a bit sheepishly.

Geoff clapped him on the shoulder. “I got the power up in the basement so you can set up your computers or whatever there. You two,” he added, turning to Ray and Michael, “Get settled in. There's plenty of room for everyone. We'll meet back in the living room tonight, start planning.”

Michael nodded and strode off. He expected Ray to follow, but when he was halfway down the corridor he turned back to find the other in conversation with Gavin. A deep annoyance settled in him for reasons he couldn't quite explain, and he stalked off to claim a bedroom.

 

* * *

 

The house was nice. Large and expansive, with two upper storeys and one basement down below. There were enough bedrooms for everyone to have one each, and Michael claimed a room at the end of the second storey hallway. He didn't unpack, leaving his belongings in bags stashed under the bed, in the hope that they wouldn't have to be here all that long.

After storing all his ordnance both in his room and in the common area for easy access, he went in search of Ray, who had not returned to the room. Not finding him anywhere around the house, it was with gritted teeth that he headed down to Gavin's lair: the basement.

Despite how long it had been since Geoff stayed here, the house was in good order. The basement was sturdy, warm and dry with dull yellow lighting that gave it an almost cosy feel. It was a large room with a low roof, and at least half a dozen computers were set up. Gavin was down under the table fiddling with one of them as Ray hung over his shoulder.

“'sup Michael,” Ray said, noticing his approach.

Gavin bumped his skull on the underside of the desk as he sat up too fast. Ray, to Michael's great annoyance, reached out and touched the other's head softly.

“Shit, you okay?”

“Fine,” Gavin said, scrambling out from the tangle of wires and such. He rubbed the sore spot vigorously, making his hair stand up every which way. A smile tugged at the side of Ray's mouth.

“What're all these screens for?” Michael asked, looking around – they were all blank, but there were a crapload of them.

“Surveillance,” Gavin replied. “I'm gonna be tracking Edgar's movements once I have a hold of him. You'd be surprised how much you can pick up from just public security cameras. We pass by them all the time and don't even realise that people can piece together our movements. Once we have a handle on him I can find out who he hangs out with.”

“Where are you gonna even _start_?” Michael scoffed. “We only have his name and I doubt it's even his real one.”

To his surprise, Gavin answered with confidence. “The warehouse. Geoff said he wasn't there in an off-road vehicle, which means he drove there on a normal route. It's far enough out that there's a tollgate you have to pass through, not to mention speed cameras at the entrance to every major highway. I've done this before, _Mi_ chael.”

Michael didn't like the way his name sounded in the other's voice. He grit his teeth together.

“Yeah, well, get onto it. I don't want to hang around here any longer than we have to.”

“Pretty fucking clever, though,” Ray commented. “We could have done with someone like you a couple times.”

“No, we really couldn't,” Michael snapped, and Ray shot him a raised eyebrow.

“Really Michael? 'cause I'm having war flashbacks to hours spent trying to track down targets.”

“We did fine just the two of us,” Michael replied.

“Maybe, but when it comes down to it we're really just brawn,” Ray said. “You can't explode your way to Edgar.”

“Watch me,” Michael muttered petulantly.

Unfortunately Gavin had caught the word 'explode'.

“That's pretty cool, Michael,” he said brightly. “I've always found explosions intriguing. I reckon it would be top to film one in slow motion.”

“What would be the point of that?” Michael demanded.

Gavin blinked. “To see how it looks all slowed down of course. They happen so fast you don't see the process.”

“I don't need to see the _process,_ I just need the end result.”

“What's the biggest thing you've ever blown up?”

“You'll be the _next_ thing I blow up if you don't get back to work,” Michael said, and made his way back to the stairs. Ray followed.

“God he's annoying,” Michael said, and glanced at Ray to find him smiling. “What. What's so fucking funny?”

“Nothing. I just like how Geoff has managed to root out the one person in the world who is going to push all your buttons.”

“Don't you find him _irritating_?” Michael said, and Ray shook his head.

“Nah, man, he's fucking adorable. He asked me what the rest of the 'gun rules' were as soon as you went storming off.”

“ _Adorable_ ,” Michael muttered darkly, and tried not to think about why that should suddenly make a cold feeling spread through his stomach. Ray wasn't hostile – not the way Michael could be – but it was rare for him to get close to people. In fact, Michael could say with confidence that he was the only person Ray called a friend – and even then there were things they didn't tell each other, things they didn't do together – secrets and touches that they still weren't close enough to share.

“Whatever,” he said. “As long as he gets us Edgar.”

 

* * *

 

The sun was just starting to set when Ryan returned. Michael had headed down to the kitchen to see what their food stocks were like when he happened upon the strange sight of Ryan methodically making coffee while Jack sat at the kitchen table eating a muesli bar and staring at him in silence.

Michael still wasn't sure about the whole Haywood-helping-them thing; he didn't trust the other man as far as he could throw him, but when it came down to it they were both mercenaries on the job and as long as he didn't turn on them, they were all on the same side here.

He wasn't scared of Ryan, per say, so much as he wasn't confident he could kill him without being killed or mortally wounded himself first, but that wasn't a fight he intended to start.

“No one follow you here?” Ryan asked, without turning to look at him, and Michael blinked and exchanged a glance with Jack before working out that he was the one being spoken to.

“No. We were careful.”

“Good.” Ryan poured water into his coffee and turned around, leaning against the kitchen counter. “Wouldn't put it past Edgar to already be trying to get eyes on us.”

At that moment Gavin walked past the kitchen door. He paused, walked back, and did a double take, eyes fixed on Ryan. Michael knew that Geoff had already warned him the infamous mercenary would be there, but it was something else entirely to see him in person for the first time.

Ryan noticed him and turned towards him, straightening up. “You must be the specialist,” he said. “I'm Ryan.”

“I know who you are,” Gavin replied. “I've seen you.”

Michael got the feeling Ryan's eyebrows were rising behind his mask. “Seen me?” he questioned, and Gavin nodded.

“Yes – on security tapes.”

“Oh?”

“Never enough to catch you though,” Gavin added quickly. “You're a lot more careful than most people. But I've caught glimpses of you. Pretty impressive.”

“He has a one hundred percent success rate,” Jack cut in. “That's a little more than _pretty_ impressive.”

“Do I get to know your name, then?” Ryan asked, and Gavin blinked.

“Gavin,” he replied.

Ryan nodded. There was a long, awkward silence in which Gavin lingered in the doorway and stared at the mercenary.

“You need something?” Michael demanded after a second.

Gavin bit his lip. “I'm waiting for Ryan to drink his coffee.”

They all looked at Ryan's coffee mug, sitting on the counter next to him.

“Um... _why_?” Michael asked.

“Because!” Gavin flapped his hands about. “I thought he'd take his mask off and... I was curious? Unless you're planning to drink it through a straw.”

Michael and Jack both tensed. Perhaps Gavin hadn't heard them, not being one for fieldwork, but there were rumours that anyone who had ever laid eyes on Ryan's naked face had died horrible deaths only moments later.

Ryan stared at Gavin for a long moment until the man began to squirm. Then he let out a deep chuckle.

“I was going to take it up to my room and drink it there,” he said. “But I think Geoff's gonna head down here soon, so I might as well dump it. Unless you want it,” he said, holding it out to Gavin, who shook his head, venturing further into the room and sitting himself down at the table beside Jack.

“No, ta, I don't drink coffee.”

“You don't drink coffee?” Jack asked, surprised. “You seem like the sort of guy who'd need to pull all-nighters often though.”

“That's what Red Bull's for,” Gavin said brightly. “But nah, I don't like coffee since it makes me poo-”

“Thanks for sharing,” Michael muttered.

“-and also I don't like anything that alters my body.”

“What the fuck does that mean,” Jack asked, sounding very confused. “Alters your body?”

“Like, it makes me feel all wired and awake."

Michael was actually in disbelief at the levels of idiocy coming out of this guy's mouth.

“What the fuck do you think Red Bull does?” he asked, and Gavin shook his head.

“I don't... no... energy drinks are different-”

“They fucking keep you awake like coffee does, what's the fucking difference?” Michael asked. “What about alcohol, do you drink alcohol?”

“Yes, but that's different, that's bevs!”

“ _There's no fucking difference_!” Michael practically screeched.

“There is, there is,” Gavin insisted. Michael wanted to reach over and shake him. He had a low tolerance for stupidity and this was some of the stupidest, most inane shit he'd ever heard in his life.

“I have to agree with Michael,” Jack said.

Ryan laughed, and Michael glanced over at him. He had to admit, Ryan was a lot... friendlier than he'd expected. From what he'd heard of the guy, he'd thought he'd be dead-silent with a lingering aura of menace. And... well, he felt dangerous, there was no doubt about that, but he wasn't hostile.

That didn't still mean Michael wasn't going to be wary as shit around him.

Gavin, it seemed, had no such qualms.

“Ryan,” he said, leaning forward on the table. “Ryan, how many people have you killed?”

“Too many to keep track of,” Ryan replied easily, as Michael and Jack exchanged alarmed glances and mutual thoughts of _what the fuck is this guy doing and why is he questioning the dangerous assassin on all his past murders_.

“Have you ever killed a guy while he's on the bog like in _Unforgiven?_ ”

“Jesus Christ,” Michael muttered.

“No,” Ryan said patiently, “I have never ' _killed a guy on the bog like in_ Unforgiven _'_.”

“Do you always work alone?” Gavin asked – and for some reason, that was the question that made Ryan tense. Michael and Jack stiffened, both ready to step in if Ryan got mad – but the mercenary just shook his head.

“No,” he said, voice now cold. Gavin's face fell a little at his shift in tone. “I have worked with others before. As I am now.”

“What about you, Gavin?” Jack said, in a valiant attempt to change the subject. “How many jobs like this have you worked on?”

To Michael's surprise, Gavin's face shuttered down. He suddenly looked almost nervous.

“Quite a few,” he said, vaguely.

“Details?” Ryan pressed, but Gavin shook his head.

At this point Michael realised he was not just a klutz, or an idiot with a fundamental misunderstanding of the nature of caffeinated beverages. He was also a dick.

“You can't ask people nosy-ass questions and then refuse to answer them yourself,” he said, annoyed.

Gavin just shook his head again, and Jack rolled his eyes.

“I mean it,” Michael said, incensed, “That's hypocritical.”

“That's not what hypocritical means,” Gavin began, but Ryan pushed off the counter and they all turned towards him.

“He doesn't want to talk about it, he doesn't have to,” Ryan said, and walked out of the room. Gavin blinked a few times, seeming a little surprised at the mercenary defending him, before he quickly scuttled out of the room, seemingly retreating back to his basement.

Michael sighed. The stress and anger was pent up in him and he'd almost _wanted_ to start a screaming match, if only to let it out. Usually boxing or video games did that for him – or blowing things up – but sitting around in this house with nothing to do but _wait_... it was starting to get to him.

“I hate him,” he informed Jack. “He's an annoying prick.”

“I'm inclined to agree,” Jack murmured. “He doesn't seem as professional as the ones Burnie usually gives us. I'm a little worried. But who knows, maybe he's great at what he does. We'll see.”

 

* * *

 

As darkness fell, Geoff began to feel edgy. He knew the chances that Edgar had found them here already were slim, but still. It was too quiet out here, in the country – he was used to the noise and vigour of the inner city. There was something ominous about the lack of traffic noises, about the scuttle of wildlife and the rustling of leaves replacing the sound of people bustling by on the streets outside.

They were gathered around the dining room table, the room lit by dim lamplight.

“So Gavin's all set up,” Geoff said. “How soon do you think you'll have something for us?”

“Can't say,” Gavin replied. In the shadowy lighting and the quiet of the evening he seemed older, more serious. “It'll depend what I find. Could be tomorrow, could be a few days, could be a week. He sounds like a careful guy, though, I reckon he'll have buried his tracks pretty well.”

“In the meantime, then,” Geoff said, “We keep a rotating watch. Nothing sneaks up on us without warning.”

They all nodded. The meeting devolved into them giving Gavin any information that could remotely help him track down Edgar – all the incidents they'd met him, all the things they knew he'd done – anything that could help him dig something out.

Ryan volunteered to stay up first that night and keep an eye out on the road, Ray opting to take the second half of the shift. The group separated and headed off to their rooms.

Geoff couldn't help but feel strange; it was one thing moving into a foreign house (even if he did own it), another entirely to be surrounded by people he barely knew. Jack was oddly quiet as they headed into the room they'd claimed, locking the door behind them. By the time they finally collapsed into bed Geoff expected to drop off instantly – he was exhausted – but sleep evaded him.

“What's biting at you?” Jack asked, his hand moving across the bed to wrap around Geoff's shoulders.

Geoff sighed. “People have messed with us before,” he admitted. “But something Ryan said when he showed up. ' _I've seen him do this before_ '.”

He rolled over. In the glimmer of moonlight snaking through the shutters over the window, he saw Jack frown.

“Doesn't mean he'll succeed this time,” Jack said, and Geoff nodded.

“I know. It's just getting to me. What's biting at _you_?” he shot back, and Jack lifted his gaze to the ceiling.

“I don't trust them.”

“Who?”

“All of them,” Jack said. “We've worked with people before but- not like this, not on something this important.”

“Jack,” Geoff said, chiding. “We know Michael and Ray. They're professional, they'll get the job done. Ryan... even if I don't trust _him_ , something about the way he talks about Edgar – I trust him to stay on our side as long as we have a common enemy.”

“And Gavin?” Jack pressed. “You can't tell me he's like any other specialist we've worked with.”

“We were young too once,” Geoff pointed out. “He hasn't given me any cause for concern yet.”

Jack snorted. “Shoulda seen him in the kitchen. Pestering Ryan with questions and refusing to answer any himself.”

“I'd rather he's comfortable enough to ask us questions than hiding away in the basement intimidated,” Geoff said.

There was a moment of silence.

“Nah,” Geoff said finally. “I'm fine with the other guys. If anyone can take this guy down it's us in combination, right?”

“Right,” said Jack. Geoff fancied he didn't sound fully convinced, but he was tired, and with Jack's arm warm around him he felt his body begin to relax and unwind. Slowly, he drifted off and let sleep claim him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first time writing/posting for this fandom so I am insanely nervous ayo
> 
> I have a few chapters written ahead so... regular updates ahoy :)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to all who commented or left kudos last chapter! Hope you enjoy this one~

Ray sat on the living room couch in the meagre light of a single desk lamp, Nintendo DS in hand. He wasn't even sure what he was playing – a Star Wars game of some sort that mostly involved mindless shooting – but with the volume turned down, every creak and groan of the old house settling seemed eerie.

Every few minutes he methodically looked up, scanning the windows outside for any danger, but all was silent and still. He didn't think Edgar would find them tonight.

He turned back to his game, keeping his ears open for any disturbance – when the creak of a door on the second level made him stiffen. He heard the pad of footsteps on the stairs and relaxed a little, figuring it was one of the others having woken up.

It was Gavin who emerged from the stairwell and headed into the kitchen, unaware of Ray watching him from the couch. Closing his DS, Ray got up and hovered in the kitchen doorway, watching as he moved to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water.

“'sup Gavin,” Ray said, and the other jumped a mile. He dropped the bottle but Ray lunged forward and caught it before it could hit the floor and spill everywhere.

“ _Christ_ ,” Gavin said, clapping a hand to his chest. “Don't do that – you nearly gave me a bleedin' heart attack!”

“Sorry,” Ray said, but not with particular remorse – at least until he tried to hand back the bottle and realised that Gavin was shaking like a leaf. “Shit – did I really scare you that badly?”

“Yes,” Gavin said, a bit too quickly.

Ray eyed him for a moment. He looked exhausted – not like someone who just woke up in the middle of the night but like someone who hadn't been sleeping properly for days if not weeks. It hadn't been noticeable in the daylight, when his face and voice were alight and animated – but here, in the night and the quiet, it was like there was something heavy weighing down on his shoulders.

“Couldn't sleep?” Ray asked after a second, and Gavin shook his head.

“Nah. Figured I'd go down to the basement and try get started on tracking Edgar down.”

“Good idea. Well, I'm up here if you... need anything.” There was an awkward pause.

Ray would not describe himself as a discompassionate man, but neither did he have any particular vested interest in the problems of anyone other than himself and Michael. He did, after all, commit other people's crimes for a living.

But watching Gavin slowly sip his water with trembling hands raised something like concern in him.

“You okay, man?” he asked after a second, and Gavin's eyes flickered to his. He gave a weak smile.

“Fine,” he replied. Then, after a moment, “Thanks.”

Ray shrugged. The lie was obvious but Gavin was entitled to his secrets. After all, they barely knew each other.

 

* * *

 

Morning came around with no further disturbances. Ray was used to spending half the night up and a strong coffee took care of any lingering tiredness he might have felt. He made one for Michael out of habit, and had it ready on the counter when he came down.

“Thanks dude,” Michael said. He didn't look like he'd gotten much sleep either. “Where're the others?”

“Ryan went outside. Geoff and Jack are still locked in their room, I figure they're banging.”

“Thanks,” Michael drawled, “Just the mental image I wanted this early in the morning.”

“Gavin's down in the basement, I'm about to head down and check on him.”

“He's off to an early start,” Michael mused, following him out of the room towards the stairs.

“He got up last night and went down to work since he couldn't sleep,” Ray replied vaguely. Michael frowned a bit, but made no comment.

Gavin was typing industriously away when they arrived. There were already two cans of red bull crumpled on the computer desk beside him, and Ray winced.

“You're gonna crash later today,” he commented, and Gavin looked up with a grin and a half-shrug.

“Maybe, but I made some solid progress! Want to see?” he asked, and turned one of the monitors towards them. Ray and Michael leaned forward.

“I see a fuckload of numbers I don't understand,” Michael replied, and took another swig of coffee.

“Yep, that's me tracking down Edgar's digital footprints.” He stretched his arms out, cracking the knuckles of his fingers methodically. “I started with two main things that Geoff told me – the warehouse, which I told you about yesterday, remember? Trying to get a read on Edgar's vehicle.”

“Yep,” Ray said. “The other thing?”

“Remember how Geoff said he was gonna steal a painting and someone tipped him off to the police? I got into their records and I've sort of hunted down where that could have come from. Combine that with the person who put the hit out on Jack – Edgar might have ordered it, but someone else did the legwork – and I've got a bunch of people who all seem to be associated with Edgar in one way or another.”

Michael perked up next to Ray. “Really? How many?”

“It looks like there's six main ones,” Gavin mused, turning back to his screen. “But I'll dig deeper and make sure.”

“You got any details on them?” Ray asked, and Gavin shook his head.

“Well, there's one who I'm certain _exists_ and works for Edgar, and he's the one I'm honing in on now. Trying to get a name and a face. And once I've got him it'll be easier to pull out the rest.”

There was an approving grunt from behind them, and they turned to see Geoff hovering at the base of the stairs, seemingly having been listening in.

“That was fast as dicks, dude,” he said, and gave a thumbs up. “How long 'till you've got a name?”

Gavin shrugged, turning back to his screen. “I'm working on it.”

“Well, it's good progress,” Geoff said. He wandered closer and rested a hand on Gavin's shoulder. “Six of them, you said?”

He nodded.

Geoff 'hmmmed'. “Well,” he said then, “Come and eat something, you can't just run on energy drinks. Ryan just came back in and I'm sure he'd appreciate an update.”

As they made their way back upstairs, Ray fell back beside Michael.

“Sleep alright?” Ray asked carefully, and Michael glanced at him sidelong.

“Fine,” he replied. “You know me, I fucking hate waiting. At least we have a number now.”

 

* * *

 

 

Michael was right about the waiting; it sucked. Despite the threat from Edgar, Geoff still had to make sure all his affairs in Achievement City were in order, and he and Jack retreated to deal with that while Michael returned to tinkering with his explosives.

Gavin having gone back downstairs, it left Ray and Ryan sitting in a somewhat awkward silence, and after a while they decided to drive around the area for the sake of reconnaissance.

Ray wasn't quite sure how to feel, sitting in the passenger's seat beside a man he had heard hundreds of terrible stories about. He wasn't intimidated – that wasn't something he generally did – but he had to admit to feeling just the slightest bit uneasy. That damn mask didn't help. It just made Ryan seem even less like a real person and more like some horrible spectre of death.

“I've heard about you,” Ryan said abruptly, as they took a circuit of the grounds surrounding the house.

“What?” Ray asked.

Ryan turned towards him. “I've heard about you,” he said then. “You and Michael. No details, but I followed a couple of your hits. You're efficient.”

“Uhh, thanks. That coming from Mr One Hundred Percent Success Rate.”

Ryan snorted. “You're quite the up-and-comers yourselves, especially given the number of times you've worked with Ramsey. What do you make of him?”

“Geoff?” A little confused by this switch in topic, Ray took a moment to think. “He's fine I guess. Doesn't take shit from anyone. I trust him, if that's what you're asking. I think this Edgar is really shitting him and he's stressed about it, but he's not going to try and skip out on us or anything. Why would he?”

“Hmmm,” was all Ryan said. “And your Michael? Didn't exactly come running forth to help.”

“'My' Michael is fine,” Ray said curtly, uneasy at Ryan's tone. “You're the one we're all worried about.”

Ryan snorted and turned away. Ray glared at him for a second before turning back towards the window.

He had to admit, though, that Michael had been... _off_ for the last few days. Twitchy, ants in his pants – Ray wasn't sure what was going on. He'd put it down to the moods the other sometimes got into. Stress or some shit. But if even Ryan, who had known them a solid 24 hours, was picking up on it...

Before he could dwell on it further, however, Ryan had turned the car back towards the house. Barely had they pulled into the drive than Jack came pacing out, waving to them.

“Get in here,” he called. “Gavin's got a name for us.”

 

* * *

 

 

Jack really was not sure what to make of Gavin. He seemed bearable, in the way small children and Taco Bell were bearable in small doses, but beyond that – there was something erratic about the guy, a twitchiness that Jack didn't appreciate. He had a sneaking suspicion that Gavin didn't completely want to be here. And that wasn't something that exactly fostered the team spirit.

Still, he had found a name, and that's what counted.

They were gathered around the computers in the basement, grainy security footage playing slowly on the screen as Gavin lectured.

“Okay,” he said, “So I had some footage of the guys driving to the warehouse, and there was footage of them robbing that bank you were gonna hit, Geoff – and then I noticed that one of the guys was there both times. So I checked that against a few other heists Ryan mentioned Edgar might've been involved in, and he's there as well, so I checked _that_ against footage from some mercenary hang outs and now I know who he is.”

“Wait, how the fuck d'you know it's the same guy?” Michael questioned. “He's wearing a...” he leaned forward and squinted at the security tape from the bank. “A _sheep_ mask.”

“I slowed it right down, y'see,” Gavin said, “His walk is the same, his shoes are the same in these two clips, see the way his right shoulder swings forward when he takes a step? He's using the same gun both times-”

“Jesus, okay, you've convinced me,” Geoff muttered. Jack had to agree – Burnie hadn't been kidding when he said this guy was observant. 

“Anyway,” Gavin said. “It looks like he's been working for Edgar the last few years at least. Seems to be his main muscle when he pulls jobs. He's a bounty hunter,” he tapped a key and a photograph of the man's face – slightly blurry, a caught-in-action candid – appeared on the screen. “Known as Thaddeus the Red.”

Ray and Michael glanced at each other.

“We ran into that guy once,” Ray commented. “Nasty piece of work.”

Jack nodded. “Yeah, I've heard about him.”

Ryan snorted. “He's careless. Overrated, in my opinion. It's the name, _Thaddeus the Red_. Fucking pretentious. It makes him sound a lot worse than he is.”

Geoff glanced back at Ryan in amusement. “Well, okay. But he's working for Edgar so we gotta take him down. Gavin, can you get a read on his location?”

“Already on it,” Gavin said. “He seems to be back in Achievement City now, I've traced him down. I...” he trailed off, hesitantly. 

“Yes?” Geoff asked, with more patience than Jack personally would have had.

“We're a bit far from Achievement City,” Gavin admitted. “Normally when I'm tracking someone, the closer I get to them, the more accurately I can pinpoint their location. From this far out here I can work out a general area though.”

“Well, that's not a problem,” Jack said. “We'll take you in with us and you can get us something more solid.”

“No!” Gavin snapped, instantly, and Jack blinked at the sudden almost hostility in his tone. “You said,” he continued, turning to Geoff, “That I wouldn't have to go into the field.”

Geoff raised his eyebrows. “Well, I did, but that was before I knew that going into the field was a requirement for you doing your job!”

“I'm not going in,” Gavin said, folding his arms, “I can get you a read from here.”

Michael stepped forward, already glaring in the way that Jack knew meant he was about to fly into one of his rages.

“You said yourself, it won't be fucking _accurate_ ,” he snapped, and jabbed a finger at Gavin's chest.

Gavin took a step back, but stared at Michael defiantly. “I can give you a general read,” he repeated. “I can work out the probability of his being in any given area. The super high accuracy is more for high profile targets anyway.”

Geoff looked considering, and Jack's lips pressed tightly together. A sort of unease was building in his stomach. 

Geoff wasn't a careless man, nor was he stupid – but he did have a tendency to wing plans on the fly. Jack preferred strategy, careful methodology and precision. When their job involved being shot at, it was better for things to go according to a delicately crafted plan rather than something made up on the spot. 

And given how dangerous they knew Edgar could be – taking any sort of risk, however small, was foolhardy.

“What's the problem?” he asked. Gavin's eyes flicked over to him. “We'll just bring you in in one of the cars. You won't have to confront Thaddeus. Probably won't even get that close to him.”

Gavin just shook his head again.

“What, are you _scared_?” Michael sneered then. “Jesus Christ, I thought you were a professional.”

“Michael,” Geoff said warningly. “Look, Gav, if you can do it from here I don't have a problem as long as you find him for us.” He grinned. “I did nearly pinky-swear to you, after all.”

Gavin smiled back, a smile full of nervous relief. “I can do it from here,” he assured them.

“Geoff,” Jack started, but Geoff turned and strode back upstairs, ignoring him. He shoved down a pang of hurt and scowled at Gavin as he turned to follow his boyfriend.

“Geoff,” he repeated, catching him by the arm. “Are you serious about this? Because this is _Edgar_ we're talking about, he's surprised us before – we shouldn't be taking any sort of chance.”

“What the fuck do you want me to do, Jack?” Geoff demanded. “Tie the kid up and throw him in the car with us? He'll just refuse to work. Look, he's obviously adamant about this so-”

“So we put it off until Thaddeus is closer or we can convince him!” Jack said. “Don't get us all killed because you're rushing into this.”

Geoff glared at him. “I'm not rushing into anything,” he said, and yanked his arm away.

A throat cleared behind him and they turned to see Ryan, mask as blank and unreadable as always.

“Hate to interrupt your lovers' spat,” he said drily, “But we have some planning to do.”

“You want to go now as well,” Jack said, and Ryan shrugged.

“I've worked with less intel before,” he replied. “We can track people down ourselves. Gavin's information is a luxury. So let's get going.”

He walked past them into the common room and Geoff followed, leaving Jack standing alone. The man gave a frustrated sigh, running a hand over his face.

 _This better fucking work, Gavin_.

 

* * *

 

 

Gavin had tracked Thaddeus to a metropolitan area of Achievement City, a small pocket of office buildings and shopping centres where the population was mostly Asian. They were unsure what business Edgar might have in the area, but Thaddeus had been caught by a street camera entering one of the plazas, so there they were headed.

“Michael, Jack, you're our drivers,” Geoff ordered. “It's too densely populated for Michael to blow anything up. Ray, Ryan and I will head in on foot and you guys stay in touch in case we need you to swing the vehicles around and pen them in.”

“If he has any electronics on him, grab them,” Gavin spoke up from where he was hovering by the edge of the table. “Could help me track down the rest of these guys.”

Geoff nodded, then pointed a finger at him. “You make sure you stay on the line,” he said. “Keep us as updated as possible.”

They were all staying connected through earpieces, and Gavin nodded.

The drive out was incredibly awkward. Jack and Geoff sat in a strained silence, their fight from earlier hanging over their heads. They were unable to continue it, though – or even talk it out – because everyone else was listening in through the comms. 

When the awkwardness finally became too much, Gavin, back at the house, broke into a nervous rant about a stomach virus he had supposedly contracted the previous month, and by the time they reached the city Jack was more irritated than ever and far more intimately acquainted than he had ever wanted to be with the bowel habits of anyone other than himself.

It didn't help that Gavin possessed the strange ability to nearly make _himself_ throw up and constantly interrupted his own story with gagging noises.

“You're closing in,” he said finally, as they reached the area of the city they needed. “Oh – he's left the plaza. He's heading for the train station.”

“Nothing like catching public transport away from your illegal business operations,” Ray muttered.

“There's two entrances to the station,” Gavin advised. “Cover them both and you can catch him going in.”

Heavy traffic forced them to pull to a halt, but the train station was only a few blocks away, so those moving on foot opted to get out and walk. Jack reached out and caught Geoff's sleeve as he made to open the car door.

“Be careful,” he said, and Geoff gave a half-smile before getting out.

 

* * *

 

 

Ray was of the personal opinion that if you were going to have an epic code name, it should reflect some aspect of your physical appearance. Thaddeus the Red really ought to have red hair, or red contact lens, or at least _wear_ red, otherwise what was the point?

It supposedly symbolised the blood of his targets, or some shit like that – far too metaphorical for his taste.

“I'm coming in from the plaza side,” Geoff said in his ear.

Ray moved to stand near the ticket machines. He leaned back against the wall, pulled out his phone and looked casual, glancing up now and then to keep an eye on the people entering. It was the middle of the day so the rush to get to work was over and the station was marginally less crowded than usual.

“Got eyes on him,” Ryan said finally. He was on the other side of the station, at the shopping mall entrance. “Geoff, stay where you are, he might make a break for it that way. He's heading up to the platform near where you are, Ray.”

“On it.” Ray turned away, realised he needed a ticket to get to the platform without drawing attention, and cursed, fumbling through a handful of change before he finally got through the ticket barrier.

There was a train coming in about three minutes, and the platform was crowded as a bunch of school kids seemed to have just emerged, ready for their commute home.

“Ryan?” Ray asked, looking around.

“I'm coming up from the other entrance,” Ryan replied. “He's headed for platform two.”

Trains could approach from both sides, and Ray pushed his way through the crowds, looking around. Finally he got eyes on Thaddeus, standing to the side of a group of people. He was a tall, muscular fellow, round faced with curly hair and dark glasses perched on the end of his nose. 

Ray's hand moved to the knife under his jacket. In such a public place it would be best to time it right, to stab him as everyone was occupied with boarding the train – but suddenly, Thaddeus turned and disappeared into the crowd.

“Uhh, I lost him,” Ray spoke up. “Gav? Where is he? You got footage?”

“I- no, hang on.”

He heard furious typing in his ear. And then, in his immediate surroundings, the rumble of the train approaching.

“I'm on the platform,” Ryan said. Ray caught sight of him on the other side, furiously scanning the crowds. “I can't see him.”

“Gavin, the train's coming in,” Ray warned, as the rumbling got louder.

“He hasn't come by me,” Geoff spoke up.

“Hang on, hang on,” Gavin said frantically.

With a screech of brakes the train pulled in to the platform and there was a flurry of movement as the crowds flooded on. Ray stepped back, watching to see if Thaddeus was boarding, but there were too many people and he couldn't find him.

“Gavin, is he getting on the fucking train or what?!” he demanded.

“I don't know!” Gavin cried. “I can't tell – the bloody CCTV is moving too fast, I don't have time to slow it down. I was tracking his phone signals but they're being blocked by something, maybe since you're underground-”

“God damn it,” Ryan snapped. “I didn't see him get on-”

“Wait,” Gavin said suddenly. “I think – was that him?"

“Did he get on or not?” Ray said – but it was too late, the guards were whistling for the doors to shut.

“I think he might have,” Gavin began, and the words were barely out of his mouth than Ryan sprinted across the platform and leaped through the train doors. Ray made to follow but he wasn't quick enough, the doors slamming shut as the train pulled away.

“God _damn it_ Gavin,” Michael said, sounding frustrated. “Where's everyone at?”

“I'm on the train,” Ryan said.

“And I'm fucking not.” Ray's shoulders slumped, adrenaline fading away to be replaced by annoyance. “Geoff isn't either. It's just you and him, Ry-”

He broke off with a shout as someone shoved him, hard, off the platform and down into the railway. He landed heavily, turning his ankle painfully under him, knees grazing against the rusted metal of the train tracks.

“Ray?” Michael cried, sounding alarmed.

Ray stumbled to his feet, wincing as his ankle throbbed painfully – _sprained, most likely_ , he registered vaguely. Standing on the platform up above him was Thaddeus, and as he watched the guy pulled a gun.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Ray hissed, “Gav, you fucked up, he's not on the train-” He dived sideways as Thaddeus fired at him. There was a distant scream from further along the platform as the few people left standing up there ran for cover. Ray pulled his own gun, but Thaddeus had jumped down onto the tracks as well and was advancing on him.

“Hang in there Ray, I'm coming,” Geoff said, followed by the sound of running feet. And then, moments later, “Shit, I need to buy a ticket – oh fuck it, I'll jump the barrier.”

Ray tuned out everyone shouting in his ear, instead pulling his knife as Thaddeus lunged at him. He managed to knock the gun from Thaddeus' hand, but the other man quickly pulled a blade as well. He was taller and stronger than Ray, and combined with his injured ankle, he knew this wouldn't be an easy kill.

He managed to get a punch in to his opponent's stomach, but as he stepped forward to follow up his injured ankle made him stumble and Thaddeus took the chance to land a solid blow to his jaw, knocking him sideways. Ray caught a flash of metal and rolled sideways, but not quite fast enough to avoid the knife slashing him across the arm. It was a shallow wound but it flared with pain nonetheless, and he let out a curse.

Thaddeus bore down on him again and, still on the ground, Ray grabbed his ankle and yanked him to the floor. There followed a mad scramble as they wrestled, both trying to get in a position to stab or slice. Ray finally managed to grab the man by the throat, but his hand was slippery with the blood dripping from his wounded arm, and his grip faltered. 

Thaddeus took the opportunity to flip them over, pinning him to the ground as he raised his knife.

Up on the platform Ray saw Geoff, sprinting towards them. He raised his gun, then seemed to realise that he was just as likely to hit Ray with them right on top of each other, and instead leaped down into the tracks and tackled Thaddeus to the ground.

Ray scrambled up in time to see Thaddeus grab Geoff by the throat and slam his head into the platform wall. Their target fell back a moment later, however, gasping – in the collision Geoff's knife had slid up between his ribs. Before he could pull it out, Ray crawled over to him and slit his throat.

“Now you are truly fucking red,” he said, as blood spurted out, and Geoff gave a half hysterical laugh behind him.

“Jesus, Ray, that was lame as fuck,” he said, moving over and searching Thaddeus quickly for his phone.

“What's going on?” Jack asked quietly, over the intercom.

“He's dead,” Ray said. “We got him.”

“Still on the fucking train,” Ryan grouched.

 _Train,_ Ray thought dimly – and it was then that he registered that _holy crap they were still on the tracks,_ and the distant rumbling that the panic and adrenaline of battle had drowned out reached his ears. Turning, he saw lights distant in the tunnel, and grabbed Geoff's arm.

“Fuck, fuck, there's a train coming, _get out_.”

“What?” Geoff turned and caught sight of the lights approaching at increasing speed. “Oh, _shit_.”

Ray stumbled to the wall and tried to hoist himself up, but his ankle protested and collapsed under him. He could hear the scream of brakes starting and for a moment he could barely breathe, flooded with panic-

Then Geoff grabbed him around the waist, and lifted him up and onto the platform before pulling himself out just as the train pulled up behind them with a frantic screech.

For a moment they sat, catching their breath. 

“Let's get out of here,” Geoff said – security were already approaching from the other end of the platform, the startled crowd inside the train staring at them with wide eyes through the greasy windows.

Ray got up and Geoff grabbed his arm, supporting him as they sprinted out towards the back exit.

“We're waiting out back,” Jack said. And then, after a beat, “ _Jesus_. That was close.”

“Come pick me up at the next stop.” Ryan's voice was decidedly unimpressed. “Where I am waiting. Because I was told he was on the train.”

There was a splutter from Gavin's end.

“I'm sorry, I didn't-”

“ _Fucking hell_ , Gavin,” Michael exploded, loudly enough that Ray winced as his earpiece struggled to cope with the sheer volume of the man's voice. “Wrong _fucking_ intel, Ryan gets on the God damn _train_ , Geoff and Ray nearly end up _dead_ – when we get back there _I am going to fucking kill you!_ ”

Gavin gave a miserable sort of squawk and cut off the line on his end.

 

* * *

 

 

Jack had half expected Gavin to be packed up and gone by the time they arrived, fleeing their vindictive wrath. But in a feat of either extreme loyalty or extreme stupidity, he was waiting for them in the dining room when they returned in a stony silence – albeit with eyes trained on the floor and arms wrapped around himself as though they could provide some semblance of protection.

Not against Michael.

The moment he got out of the car Jack could tell he had flown into one of his rages. He'd seen them a couple of times before and they didn't usually subside until someone or something had been blown to smithereens.

“Come here, you little prick,” he snarled, advancing. “I'm going to beat the _shit_ out of you-”

Gavin retreated around the table with a variety of panicked, bird-like noises, but Michael was faster. He grabbed Gavin's wrist and yanked him violently forward, fist drawing back to punch. Gavin flinched back, struggling to get away, but Ray stepped in, grabbing Michael's arm and tugging it down.

“Give it a rest, Michael,” he said.

“Give it a rest?!” Michael demanded. He turned to Ray and the sight of the blood dripping from his arm, the dirt and bruises marking his face from the scuffle, only seemed to incense him further. “You nearly _died_ , Ray, because of this idiot!”

“I'm sorry,” Gavin began. “I thought-”

“You thought what?” Michael snapped. “That your fucking life was worth more than ours? Is that why you chickened out of going into the field? If you'd just manned up and gone maybe we'd have been able to get Thaddeus _before_ he nearly took down Geoff and Ray with him!”

“That's not-” Gavin broke off with a noise of frustration. “I didn't-”

“You didn't _what_?!” Michael had let go of him now, in favour of gesticulating wilding. “You trying to tell me you're _not_ a little bitch who cares about his own safety before everyone else's?! Huh? Is that what you're trying to fucking tell me?!”

There followed a ten minute verbal onslaught, 90 percent of which was profanity. By the end of it Jack had a headache and Gavin had his shoulders hunched up, backed up against the table, his gaze now permanently fixed to the ground.

“You done?” Geoff asked wearily, as Michael stomped over to the kitchen to get a drink. His voice had grown hoarse by the end.

“I'll be fucking done when he makes it up to us!” Michael hollered from the next room, voice cracking mid-way.

Ray rolled his eyes, but said nothing.

“Is it my turn yet?” Jack asked, only half jokingly – a cold fury had been burning in him since he heard the train approaching over the intercom, since that flash of fear as he heard Geoff scrambling to get out of there in time. He didn't get angry the way Michael got angry, though – yelling and screaming wouldn't help matters. Slapping Gavin would probably make him feel better, but he had a feeling that Ray would step in if he tried.

Geoff glanced at him. “Gav,” he said quietly, “Go get back to work. One might be down but there's still five to go.”

Gavin nearly tripped over his own feet trying to get out of the room. Ray hesitated, then walked out after him. Jack wondered why, but no one moved to stop him, and as soon as the two of them were gone he let out a heavy sigh, running his hands over his face.

“Geoff, cut him loose right now. He nearly got you killed.”

“Fuckin' ay,” Michael said, reappearing with a beer in hand. He looked a little startled at Ray's disappearance, and then frowned.

Geoff shook his head. “Look, we're all pissed off. I get it. I am too. But you know how these people work, Jack. Burnie's given them to us before. Hackers, specialists, consultants – most of them will refuse to go out where it's dangerous.”

“Most of them don't need to go out to do their jobs,” Jack pointed out, and Geoff shook his head again.

“That might be, but you can't force them into shit and I did promise him. Look, we're all tired, we're all sore, let's just leave it be. We killed Thaddeus and we're all still alive.”

Annoyance rose up again – he wished Geoff would stop brushing off the fact that he nearly died – would think about how that affected _Jack_ , not just himself – but Geoff was already walking out, muttering something about going to take a shower.

“What do you think?” Jack asked, turning to Ryan. He had been watching the proceedings in silence.

Ryan shrugged. “Cut him some slack,” he said.

Michael gave a tremendous snort. “Cut him some slack? That's not how these things fucking _work_. You want to be on a team like this, you pull your weight. Or people end up dead.”

Ryan's head snapped around to fix Michael with his mask's blank stare. There was a sudden fury about him that made Jack nervous, that reminded him just why people were so afraid of this man.

“I know exactly how these things work,” he said coldly. “Gavin wasn't the only one at fault. We all should have waited, we all should have been more on guard. Pinning blame and accusations is just one other thing that makes teams fall apart.”

He stalked out of the room, leaving the two of them in a strained silence.

“Is it just me,” Michael said, turning to Jack, “Or is no one but us registering that what happened back there was, in fact, a catastrophe that could have ended _really fucking badly_?!”

Jack nodded furiously. “I need a drink,” he snapped, stalking over to the kitchen. “Because apparently my damn boyfriend doesn't take his own life at all seriously.”

“ _I know right_!” Michael cried, throwing his hands up. “I mean my – Ray too. Jesus. What's with them going head over heels for Gavin suddenly. He's a moron who nearly fucked us all over.”

“I'll drink to that,” Jack said, and did. 

The silence was now companionable, filled with alcohol and shared irritation.

“I'm glad I'm not the only one who realises this,” Michael said after a moment. “Or I'd go fucking insane.”

Jack glanced at him and gave a small smile. “Yeah, well. The next one better go according to plan.”

“It better,” Michael agreed darkly. “Or I'll have to blow something up.”

 

* * *

 

Ray limped down the basement stairs. Every step made his ankle protest, but he'd had worse. 

Gavin was sitting in front of his computers, but wasn't doing any work – just swinging idly back and forth in his chair, one knee drawn up to his chest, staring off into the distance. He didn't notice Ray had come up behind him until the other cleared his throat. Then he jumped a mile, nearly toppling back off the computer chair. Ray reached out to steady it.

“Shit,” Gavin gasped. “Stop _doing_ that!”

“Sorry,” Ray said. He cleared a spot on the desk and sat down on it. “Are you okay?” he asked after a moment.

“You're the one bloody bleeding all over the floor, Jesus!” Gavin reached out and grabbed a handful of tissues, but Ray shook his head.

“Not those. They'll stick to the wound. I'll let it air a bit then get Jack to sew it up or something. I'm fine, don't worry about it.”

Gavin bit his lip, looking down at the floor. “I actually am sorry,” he said. “I didn't... I wasn't sure if he was on the train but I didn't mean for Ryan to jump on and leave you-”

“Gav,” Ray interrupted. “Don't worry about it.”

“Aren't you mad, though?” Gavin asked, glancing up at him.

Ray shook his head. “Nah. I mean, if I'd been hit by that train, yeah I'd be mad. But I let my guard down too. Schoolboy error.”

“Michael's mad.”

“Michael's _always_ mad,” Ray chuckled. “You'll get used to it. Seriously, he screams a lot but he doesn't mean half of it.”

Gavin laughed bitterly. “I kinda think he did. I didn't... you know, it wasn't like he said.”

“I don't get you.”

“I mean, that's not why I didn't want to go out. It wasn't 'cause I didn't care about you guys' lives, I didn't... that's not how it was. I just...” 

He was tripping over his words by this point and Ray reached out, jostling his shoulder.

“Dude, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to. You're not like the rest of us, you don't belong out there, I don't give a fuck if you don't want to go out. We just need to plan better next time, coordinate better. Maybe have more people on the ground and fewer driving, I don't know. This wasn't just on you.”

“Okay,” Gavin said. And then gave a small smile. “Thanks, Ray.”

“No worries.” He grinned. “Like I said. You're fucking clever, you tracked down that guy in less than a day. We should be like a superhero team. You do the computer stuff and I do the shooting stuff. X-Ray and Vav.”

“I like that,” Gavin decided, and Ray smiled at him before pushing off the desk.

“Good. It is official. Now I'mma go clean my arm before it gets all infected and I have to amputate it or some shit. Dude, google image gangrene.”

“What? No,” Gavin said, and then promptly did it anyway and fell about gagging. “ _Jesus Christ no_ I'm going to be sick.” He flailed an arm about. “Pass me the bloody dustbin Ray.”

“We call it a trashcan here,” Ray said, cheerfully doing so.

“Wastebasket,” Gavin intoned, deliberately posh, and then leaned over it and retched violently. “Get out of here before I actually throw up,” he said, voice muffled. “And please close the google window before you do.”

Because he delighted in being an asshole, Ray instead searched for chlamydia and left the image window on the screen before departing with a smile on his face.

He wasn't quite sure why he liked Gavin so much. He wasn't an unfriendly person, per say, but he had previously found very little need for reaching out and making friends. Michael's company was more than enough for him. But Gavin was different – Ray had spent so much time surrounded by mercenaries, criminals and bounty hunters, that someone from such a vastly different walk of life was refreshing.

It didn't hurt that Ray also found him incredibly amusing. 

He made his way back to the kitchen where he found Michael and Jack sitting, drinking and talking in low voices. They stopped their conversation when he arrived, and he made his way over to the sink, rolling his sleeve up to wash the dried crust of blood from his skin.

Jack caught on quickly. “I'll grab the first aid kit,” he said, getting up and heading out.

Michael came up next to Ray, who eyed him with concern. His earlier anger having mostly faded away by now, he looked nothing but tired.

“That okay?” Michael asked, nodding towards his arm.

Ray nodded, turning off the tap. The cut stung, but it wasn't deep.

“'tis but a flesh wound,” he said, and Michael managed something like a smile. Then he reached out and touched Ray's shoulder, and Ray sort of – froze, because they weren't really like that, they weren't particularly tactile with each other, at least not in quiet moments like this – and then after a second Michael drew back and there was a very, very awkward pause.

“Uh, you okay?” Ray asked after a second.

Michael gave a jerky nod, looking away. “Yeah – yeah, dude, I'm fucking fine, just – _hell_ , Ray, this is the second time in as many days you've nearly been _killed_.”

“Yeah, well, I'm fucking indestructible-”

“You're _not_ ,” Michael snapped, so angry that Ray's mouth snapped shut in surprise. Michael looked a little taken aback by his own reaction, then sheepish suddenly.

“Just... you're not, okay, you're flesh and blood like the rest of us so – so don't get yourself fucking killed, alright?” 

“Um... alright, man,” Ray said, and Michael turned away, mouth twisting with something like embarrassment.

 _Okaay,_ thought Ray, rather confused. At that moment Jack returned, and he sat down on a chair at the table, holding his arm out for the man to clean and dress the wound.

He had been a little irritated before at how Jack and Michael ganged up on Gavin. But Jack's hands were very gentle as he patched him up, and this close to the other man he could see that he looked just as tired and worn down as the rest of them. And then, he remembered, Geoff had nearly been killed too – they were just worried. Worried, and stressed, and Gavin was an easy target and partly to blame to boot.

“That feel okay now?” Jack asked. “I don't think you need stitches.”

“Nah, I'm good. Thanks,” Ray added, and Jack nodded, turning to pack everything away.

 

* * *

 

 

Six of them in one house and no one had bothered to do the damn dishes.

Jack ended up doing them, just because everyone else had drifted off and he had nothing else to do. And maybe – truth be told – because he was avoiding going upstairs and the inevitable conflict with Geoff.

As it was, he washed up. And then put everything away. And then, when he could put it off no longer, picked up the first aid kit from where he'd left it on the table, and headed for the bedrooms in resignation.

He bumped into Gavin on the way. The man was emerging from the bathroom and when he saw Jack he looked away nervously. Probably because Jack had scowled, his annoyance from earlier flaring up again.

Still, the house was oddly quiet, even Gavin managing to make his way back down to the basement with barely a sound. It was disconcerting and only added to the feeling of something horrible brewing on the horizon. Ray was back in his room, the door shut, Michael on watch outside. Ryan hadn't been seen since he walked out of the kitchen earlier and Jack didn't know if he was in his room, or had headed out, or what. _There's a serious lack of communication going on around here,_ he thought, a touch bitterly.

The door to his room was shut, and he rapped gently before opening it. Geoff was sitting on the bed, shirtless, drying his hair with a towel. He glanced up as Jack entered.

“Hey,” Jack said quietly.

Geoff gave a small wave, turning towards the mirror opposite the bed and fiddling with the ends of his moustache, which were drooping slightly in the humidity of the steam coming from the ensuite bathroom.

Glancing over, Jack caught sight of a scrape on his boyfriend's head, and with a muttered curse moved to sit next to him.

“What?” Geoff asked, noticing his stare.

“Your head.” He reached out and turned Geoff's face towards him, inspecting the wound. “What happened?”

“Fucking Thaddeus hit my head on the wall. It's fine, I'm not concussed.”

“I'll put some ointment on it.”

Geoff chuckled as he turned to the first aid kit, and Jack glanced back at him with a raised eyebrow. “What?”

“Nothing.” Another laugh. “You're just like a fucking mother bear is all.”

“Oh shut up.” He threw a bandaid into Geoff's lap. “Fix it yourself if that's how you're gonna be about it.”

“Sorry,” Geoff said, still far too amused. Jack smiled faintly, but couldn't help wishing he was apologising for something else entirely.

Geoff wasn't stupid, and caught onto his mood quickly.

“You're still pissed,” he said.

Jack let out a huff of breath. “Of course I am,” he said. “You almost _died_ , Geoff, don't brush it off like it's nothing. One second more and you'd have been flattened by that train.”

“I'll be sure to stay behind the yellow line next time.”

“I'm _serious_.”

“I know you are,” Geoff said, all humour dropping away from his voice. “But damn, look at me, Jack.” He glanced down at his torso, at the myriad of scars. Slashes from knives, bullet wounds, the works. “It's not the first time. It won't be the last.”

“That doesn't mean we get reckless about it,” Jack said.

“Are you just trying to say you told me so?” Geoff asked, one eyebrow rising.

Jack remained stonily silent.

“Go ahead,” Geoff said, rolling his eyes. “Go on, I give you permission.”

Jack glared at him and got off the bed, slamming open the cupboard door to put the med kit away. “I _did_ fucking tell you so,” he grouched after a moment, and Geoff laughed.

“I know.”

“We'll be more careful next time,” Jack said, seriously. “I mean it – I don't give a fuck what Gavin wants. We convince him to come out with us or we wait. Alright?”

“Alright. You're in charge,” Geoff teased, and Jack scowled again. But Geoff's laugh was contagious as always, and he had to concede a smile eventually.

Things were okay for about two seconds.

Then Geoff's phone vibrated, on the bedside table, and he reached over to grab it.

“What does _he_ want,” he muttered, and answered the call. “Kdin? Sup.”

Jack watched Geoff's face as he listened to whatever Kdin had to say. A frown slowly descended over his features, as he nodded and 'hmmm'd' before finally saying, “Okay. Fine.” And hanging up.

“What's up?” Jack asked, cautiously.

Geoff ran a hand over his face before turning to him with a sigh.

“I have to go back to Achievement City.”


	3. Chapter 3

Jack and Geoff were fighting.

Ryan knew this because their door had been locked for four hours, and locked doors meant secrets. At night in the safety of his own room, behind bolt and key, was the only time he ever took his mask off – and the fight had been brewing a while now. He had heard (or rather, not-heard) the strained silence in the car on the way there and back from killing Thaddeus the Red. He had seen the tension between them when they confronted Gavin after the mission.

_And this,_ Ryan thought, as he stood outside the locked door, behind which hushed argument could be heard, Geoff's voice occasionally rising into something near a shout –  _this is why you don't start banging the second in command of your criminal empire. Because any disagreements about things turn personal._

As soon as he heard a pause in the argument, he knocked. There was a beat of silence before Geoff opened the door a crack.

“What?!” he demanded. His eyes were red rimmed with exhaustion, his brows furrowed.

“It's almost dark,” Ryan said calmly. “I'm on first watch. One of you guys needs to take second because Ray and Michael already took their shift and I don't think any of us would feel safe with Gavin on look out.”

“Fine,” Geoff said, and slammed the door in his face.

Ryan turned away with a sigh, trying not to feel too annoyed. The amount of ridiculous drama this group seemed capable of conjuring up was starting to tire him. But he needed them. He'd been after Edgar so long, and now – now he finally had the manpower to bring him down.

 

* * *

 

 

Insomnia had been the bane of Ryan's existence for a while now (second to Edgar, of course). By this point he was used to spending half the night awake, and had little trouble with settling on the couch, where he had a good view of all the windows, and cleaning his gun. Eventually the rest of the house fell still and silent, even Jack and Geoff.

It was an hour past midnight when he realised there was still light coming from the basement stairs, and crept down to look.

Gavin's eyes were fixed, almost as though hypnotised, on the screen of numbers before him. Every few moments he would slump forward and then snap back upright, as though drifting off to sleep but trying desperately to remain awake.

“Go to sleep,” Ryan ordered, and Gavin spun around, instantly alert.

“Ryan – what time is it?”

“Like fucking one in the morning. Go to bed, you're no use to us dead of exhaustion.”

“But I'm close to finding another one.” It was an empty protest – not the real reason he didn't want to go – and Ryan raised an eyebrow, though it was little use with the mask.

“You can continue tomorrow.”

“I'm almost done.” Gavin lifted his chin, some thing like petulance in his tone, and Ryan realised with a terrible sinking feeling that he himself was behaving like a chastising father trying to send his kid off to bed.

“Fine,” he said, “Do what you want, don't blame me when you go mad.”

“Aren't you the one who's mad?”

It had slipped out unintentionally, Ryan could tell – Gavin possessed few filters at the best of times but it seemed exhaustion disposed of any remaining ones he may have had – and he gritted his teeth, shoulders tensing. _The mad mercenary_. The name had always irked him.

“Sure,” he said, with forced patience. “You know why? Because I barely sleep. You don't want the same thing to happen to you, right?”

“I read a story once,” Gavin said. “About this experiment these, like, Russians or someone did where they stopped all these people from sleeping for ages and they all went mental and like started shitting everywhere and then they started eating each other. And then I think they ate the scientists or... something.”

This was not a conversation Ryan had ever expected to have at one in the morning.

“I read the same thing,” he replied.

“Really?” Gavin asked, and Ryan turned back to him and nodded.

“Yes,” he said. “And you know what? It was a fucking _creepypasta_.”

Gavin stared at him for a moment. His eyes were slightly bloodshot from staring at a screen so long.

“Oh,” he said, after a second. “I remember now. It was. Fancy that,” he said, and laughed.

Ryan rolled his eyes. He started to make his way back up the stairs, but turned halfway. Gavin was still in the chair, spinning idly now, but making no move to head off to the bedroom. Ryan frowned.

Not insomnia, otherwise he wouldn't look as sleepy as he did. Not a strong work ethic either, because he was making no move to go back to the computer. What else would drive someone to deliberately not want to sleep?

There was one glaringly obvious answer, of course, and it gave Ryan pause.

_Why the fuck would a data analyst be having nightmares bad enough to make him want to stay awake all night?_

For a moment his mind wandered, flicking over possibilities – but he caught himself quickly.

_Stop it, Haywood,_ he told himself.  _Why do you give a fuck? These people aren't your friends – they're barely even a team. They're just people you're working with on a job, and getting close to them... don't. You know how that turns out_ .  _Pull yourself together._

So, steadfastly ignoring the light from the basement, he turned back to the couch to sit out the rest of his watch.

 

* * *

 

 

“The fuck are Geoff and Jack?” Michael demanded, as he poured cereal.

Morning had dawned with no sign of either of them.

“Fighting over something,” Ryan replied drily. He had eaten already, in his room. God it was a trial dealing with this mask sometimes.

“Fighting?” Michael asked. “Why the fuck are they fighting?”

Ryan shrugged. Ray, who had been eating in silence, looked speculative. But before anything else could happen, Gavin dragged himself up from the basement and shuffled, zombie-like, into the kitchen where he stared sort of awkwardly at the table, obviously unsure where to sit.

“Vav,” Ray called, patting the seat next to him. Ryan took note of the way Michael's eyes flickered over and narrowed.

“You look like shit,” Michael commented.

“Thanks Michael,” Gavin replied. He stared at the milk carton as though he couldn't remember what it was for. Ryan knew in that moment that he had not gotten a wink of sleep.

Ray caught on too, and set about pouring cereal for him. “You didn't stay up all night did you?” he asked.

“Um,” Gavin said.

“Jesus, Gav, go take a nap or something.” Ray handed him a spoon, concern written across his features.

“M'fine. Running on Red Bull.”

Ray snorted. “You're going to have a heart attack.”

There followed a few moments in which Gavin methodically shovelled Lucky Charms into his mouth, Ray watched Gavin, and Michael watched Ray.

_It's like being at the zoo_ , Ryan thought, observing from the head of the table.

“I got something, anyway,” Gavin spoke up after a bit. “With Thaddeus' phone. I'm tracking down another one. From what I've gathered he's responsible for scoping out Edgar's hideouts. If we get him we might be able to track down Edgar himself.”

“Sounds good,” Ryan said.

Ray held up his hand for a high-five. Gavin complied, and Michael's eye twitched.

“I'll come down with you after breakfast,” Ray said with a grin.

“Why?” Michael snapped. “What possible help could you be to him?”

“Ehh, I can poke him if he starts falling asleep,” Ray said. “And monitor the energy drink consumption. We're a team, right? X-Ray and Vav?”

Gavin hummed a mediocre attempt at a theme tune, and Michael looked on the edge of having a stroke.

“X-Ray and Vav?!” he exploded. “The flying fuck is _X-Ray and Vav_?!”

“Gavin's my technologically savvy sidekick now,” Ray informed them. “We're like a superhero team except we commit the crimes.”

“So like a supervillain team then,” Ryan pointed out.

“Ryan,” Gavin said, seeming marginally more awake after eating. “Ryan, you're like a comic book character with your mask. Like the masked avenger. Or the Scarlet Pimpernel.”

“If we're going based on colours I'm pretty sure Thaddeus the Red was the Scarlet Pimpernel,” Ray pointed out.

“I'm going to take that as a compliment,” Ryan decided. He glanced at Michael, who was still fuming. Ryan had to admit to being a bit impressed; it was truly a talent to be able to muster up such intense levels of anger this early in the morning.

It was also glaringly obvious to any outside observer that Michael was jealous. Having your best – and only – friend whisked away by someone you considered the height of irritation? Even Ryan would be pissed.

This was why he did not have a best friend, and endeavoured to remained unattached. So much less drama.

“You done?” Ray asked. Gavin nodded, and Ray stood up. “Let's go then.”

“ _X-Ray and Vav_ ,” Michael cried, as soon as they were gone. “They've got fucking cutesy nicknames for each other now, what the fuck.”

“Beware, Mr Jones, of jealousy,” Ryan intoned deeply. “'tis the green eye monster that doth mock the meat it feeds on.”

Michael's scowl fixed on him. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“I thought it was pretty straightforward.”

“I'm not  _jealous_ .” And then, when Ryan just looked at him, mask impassive, his face turned bright red. “Fuck you, Haywood, I'm  _not_ . I'm just annoyed that Ray can't see what a total moron Gavin is.”

“Right,” Ryan said.

His sarcasm only incensed Michael further.

“I'm surprised you're not more fucking annoyed, the way he pesters you all the time. _Ryan this, Ryan that_ , he's not scared of you at all. It's fucking weird is what it is. I mean it.”

“None of the rest of you are scared of me,” Ryan pointed out. It was true. Wary, perhaps, but none of them had the flustered nervousness that others he'd worked with in the past had.

“Yeah, but we're talking about _Gavin_ ,” Michael pointed out. “He's terrified of going into the field – he was scared of Thaddeus, for God's sake. Shouldn't he be quaking in his boots at the sight of you, the most notorious killer around? I don't care if we're on the same fucking side, there's something strange about it.”

He slammed his bowl in the sink and strode out, leaving Ryan to consider his words.

It  _was_ a bit strange, now that he thought about it. He hadn't been  _unfriendly_ towards any of them, but by all rights Gavin – who undoubtedly had seen him in action on security tapes and such – should have been at least a little intimidated.

And shit, now his curiosity was piqued.

Before he could dwell on it further, however, Geoff and Jack entered the kitchen in a frosty silence. It quickly became apparent that they were trying as hard as they could to ignore each other.

_Jesus fucking Christ,_ thought Ryan. He really, really did not want to play marriage counsellor, but someone had to intervene and he knew if he didn't, no one else would.

He opened his mouth to ask what the big fight was all about, when Geoff turned to him and announced, “I'm going back to Achievement City today.”

Ryan blinked. Then said, “Well that's stupid.”

“ _Thank you_ ,” Jack exploded. “That's what I've been telling him all fucking night!”

“Edgar's out there waiting,” Ryan said. “And now that we've brought down one of his men, he'll know we're going after him.”

“Well, that's too fucking bad because I have urgent business to attend to.”

“Send one of your men,” Ryan replied. “That's what you have them for, isn't it? To attend to your business for you?”

“They already tried,” Geoff said flatly. “Some asshole who's been pestering me a while now tried moving in on my territory. Kdin took some guys to deal with it but he still wouldn't back off and Caleb ended up with a broken leg,  _again_ . If I don't deal with this shit now I'll look weak – and worse, it'll give Edgar an opening to move in on my turf as well. So I'm going, and that's final.”

“We can take back anything you lose after we've brought down Edgar,” Ryan pointed out. Jack shot him a grateful look, obviously glad someone was on his side. “There's no shame in playing the slow game.”

“I wouldn't expect either of you to understand,” Geoff replied flatly. “Considering neither of you knows what it's like trying to run an empire like mine.”

Jack scowled, but didn't reply, which Ryan took to mean that they'd had this argument already last night, possibly – probably – more than once.

He also knew enough about Geoff to know that he was, as the man himself would put it, “stubborn as dicks”. Which meant it'd be little use trying to stop him.

“Fine,” he said then. “In that case, I'll come with you.”

Both Geoff and Jack turned to stare at him.

“What?” Geoff asked.

Ryan raised and lowered one shoulder. “Until Gavin finds something we've nothing to do around here. Ray and Michael can take care of him just fine. I'm sure you showing up with the mad mercenary on your side would shake things up for this guy, whoever he is. Better than you trying to go alone.”

“Why the fuck would you want to help me? This has nothing to do with you.”

“I'm depending on your survival to keep this crew together,” Ryan replied, flatly. “Don't mistake this as me caring for you. You're keeping Jack here, you're paying the other three, and if you get yourself killed Gavin will run right back to Burnie. I need you alive to help me take Edgar down.”

“Fine,” Geoff said then. “Be ready to leave in an hour.”

He took his breakfast and left the room. Jack frowned.

“And here I thought you'd convince him not to go,” he said.

Ryan turned towards him. “There was no convincing him. Better if we both just go with him.”

Jack pressed his lips together, but made no further comment.

 

* * *

 

 

The drive to the city was awkward.

Awkward and quiet, and Ryan was reminded exactly why he avoided things like personal relationships. Start caring about people when you work in a dangerous field and the next thing you know, the stakes on everything are two hundred percent higher.

Jack was still ignoring Geoff, obviously irritated that he was putting himself in the line of fire  _again_ . And Geoff was ignoring Jack, annoyed at his seeming lack of understanding. Ryan wondered how many times they'd had this argument before, if it was routine for them by now.

“His name's Felix,” Geoff said, finally breaking the silence. “He's an untalented bigshot who thinks he's a lot better than he really is. Unfortunately he's mustered up a crapton of equally annoying minions from somewhere and they've been fringing AC for a while now. Probably pounced on the chance as soon as he realised I'd left town. We don't need to kill him, just knock him back in line before he does anything too stupid.”

“Doesn't sound too urgent,” Ryan pointed out.

“That's because it's  _not_ ,” Jack snapped. “It could have waited until we've dealt with Edgar.”

“No,” Geoff retorted, “It couldn't. Let Felix get ideas and everyone else starts getting ideas. Don't play dumb, Jack, you know I can't let stuff like this slide. How do you think I fucking got where I am? Not by being soft on people, that's for sure.”

Jack glared, and Geoff glared, and Ryan, sitting in the backseat, realised with dawning horror that this was not going to end with them just taking down Felix. If they didn't solve this now, it would  _fester_ and the thing was – there wasn't  _time_ for this, not with Edgar on the loose.

They had to work cohesively, and Ryan had seen enough to know that these two fighting would put everyone else on edge, Michael and Ray and Gavin most of all.

There was no faster way to bring two people together than to unite them against a common enemy, and in this case, he realised with resignation, it would have to be himself.

“Honestly surprised you got where you are now, considering Jack,” he commented blithely.

“Excuse me?” Jack said immediately, but it was Geoff whose gaze snapped to glare at Ryan in the rear view mirror.

“The fuck did you say?” he demanded. He may be annoyed at his boyfriend, but as Ryan had expected, he wasn't about to let someone shit all over him.

“The two of you,” Ryan said. “Together. And open about it. I mean, it's an obvious weak point. Why the fuck do you think I've never been caught? Because I have no weak point, nothing people can use to get at me. Hell, it's why you finally got so mad at Edgar, wasn't it? 'Cause he targeted Jack?”

“I don't see where you're going with this,” Geoff said, angrily, and Ryan leaned back against the headrest of his seat.

“Where I'm going with this? I'm just pointing out that relationships like yours are a liability. Fuck, look at the two of you now, squabbling like children because your personal life is all caught up in your professional. If you weren't fucking each other you wouldn't be so invested in each others' safety, at least to the point of getting so mad about it.”

“Fuck you,” Geoff snapped, rising to the bait just as Ryan had expected he would. “Just because we're not all miserable loners like you doesn't mean we're _weak_.”

“Prove it to me then and stop fucking sulking,” Ryan said.

“I'm not sulking,” Geoff replied, sulkily.

Jack made no reply, but he was looking at Ryan with a measuring look, as though he knew what he was trying to do. After a moment he let out a little huff of breath and turned to stare out the window, ignoring  _both_ of them now. When Geoff glanced at him, though, Ryan noticed that it was with much less annoyance and much more concern.

_Mission accomplished_ , he thought, and gave a bitter smile behind his mask.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Michael hated the countryside.

He was sat out on the front porch, gun across his lap, keeping watch. Nothing had happened for the last two hours, and nothing was likely to happen, but fucking Geoff had to go out to the city and take Jack and Ryan off with him, which meant he was stuck back here keeping an eye out.

There were tiny little insects that kept fucking with him. They were like flies, but much smaller, too small for him to kill, and no matter how much he swatted at them they just kept coming back to swarm around his face, annoying the shit out of him.

The bugs were the least of his problems.

_Jealous_ , he thought. He had been thinking about it a lot since breakfast.  _Fucking Ryan, I'm not jealous at all. Where the fuck did he get that idea_ .

Just because he didn't like the fact that Gavin had gone and stolen his best friend –

And okay, maybe he was a bit jealous after all.

It didn't mean anything, he realised frantically. It didn't – it meant fuck all because why wouldn't he be pissed that Ray had suddenly abandoned him and gone and formed a fucking superhero team with some guy he'd known a grand total of one day and who was a complete moron to boot? Who wouldn't be annoyed? No one, that's who, yeah that's fucking right.

He was well within his rights to be jealous.

But if he was honest with himself – if he was completely, totally honest with himself – if this had happened a few months ago, even a few weeks ago, he wasn't sure his feelings of annoyance would be quite so intense.

For whatever reason, his affection for Ray had skyrocketed over the last few days, and he had no fucking idea why. It wasn't like he hadn't liked him before – they were best friends after all – but for some reason, maybe due to the multiple near death experiences, it was like he suddenly wanted to be around him a lot more.

_Jesus Christ I'm going mad,_ he thought, a touch frantically.  _It's Edgar, it must be Edgar. It's just getting to me._

The bugs were also, by this point, getting to him, and confident that they weren't about to be ambushed by anything other than the local insect life, he retreated inside and, after a moment's hesitation, headed down to the basement.

Ray was not there. Gavin, however, was – and he had a pair of massive headphones over his ears, gaze fixed intently at the screen before him.

Seized by a fit of mischief – and if he was being totally honest, a little vindictiveness as well – Michael crept up behind him before slamming his hands down on his shoulders.

“Surprise, bitch!” he yelled, and Gavin _shrieked_ , a shrill noise that resembled nothing quite so much as a strangled cockatoo. He spun around so fast that he actually toppled from his chair, ripping his headphones off.

“Haaa, fucking got you,” Michael crowed.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Gavin spat. He made no move to get up off the floor, and Michael noticed that his eyes were very red. Not enough sleep and too much staring at monitors were undoubtedly to blame.

“You scream like a girl,” Michael sniggered.

“That wasn't bloody funny,” Gavin said. He was actually gasping for breath, almost hyperventilating, and Michael felt kind of bad. Only for about two seconds though, because Gavin then threw the headphones at him and somehow managed to hit him right in the face.

“Ow! Shit. You asshole.”

“You're the one that scared me,” Gavin said, hauling himself back up into his chair. His hands were shaking. “Seriously, don't – don't do that.”

“I'll do what I fucking want,” Michael replied, and looked around the room. “Where's Ray? Thought he was down here.”

“Went to the loo.”

“You made much progress?” Michael asked.

Gavin nodded. “Like I said. It's the guy who scouts out hideouts and locations for Edgar. Can't pull up much on who he actually is, but he goes by Clarence G.” He tapped a key and a photo of the guy popped up; a little, birdlike man. “I'm trying to track him down, he's been all over the place the last few weeks.”

“Not a bounty hunter, then? Or any sort of fighter?”

Gavin shook his head. “Nah – but he has a body guard, from what I can tell, someone who goes around with him and pushes his deals.”

“Nothing we haven't dealt with before,” Michael replied. He grabbed another chair from nearby and pulled it up to the desk, figuring he might as well wait for Ray.

Gavin glanced at him. “Have you known Ray long?” he asked then.

All Michael's previous annoyance rose back up. _Longer than you,_ he thought petulantly.

“Yes,” he replied. “Like, five or six years now. Basically since we first started getting into this business.”

“How _do_ you end up becoming a mercenary?” Gavin asked.

“How do _you_ end up becoming a... a whatever the fuck you are, hacker or whatever?” Michael shot back.

Gavin just shrugged. And then continued to prod – seeming, to Michael's great confusion, intent on becoming friends. Or at least finding out more about him.

“How did you learn explosives?”

“With great care,” Michael replied flatly.

“When you blow stuff up do you go for maximum _boom_ or maximum fire? Because I feel like having a big fire afterwards would add extra damage.”

“What the fuck would you know about it,” Michael said. “You don't go for either, the explosive you use depends on the job. If I'm blowing a door I don't want to blow up everything else around it.”

“Why not?”

“Because! It depends on the job and what you want, how quick you need to get in. The bigger your explosion the farther away you have to be to avoid getting hurt, that should be pretty fucking obvious.”

“So it's a situational thing.”

“ _Obviously_.” Michael rolled his eyes. “You're fucking thick, you are.”

“I was just curious!”

There was a moment of silence.

“Oh my God,” Gavin said. “I actually think I'm going to have a heart attack. It's all your fault, Michael, you gave me a bloody bad shock. My heart's going too fast now. Feel it.”

He thrust his chest in Michael's direction. Michael recoiled.

“I don't want to fucking feel your heart beat.”

“I'm gonna die and you're gonna be charged with murder.”

At this, Michael burst into peals of uproarious laughter. He doubled over, because his stomach actually _hurt_.

“Charged with... murder... I'm gonna fucking piss myself... I fucking _kill people_ for a living and... you think... I'd be charged with murder... over killing your useless ass... oh my God I think I peed a little bit just then.”

“ _Mi_ -chael!” Gavin cried, unimpressed.

Ray re-entered the room at that point. He looked confused, and then amused.

“Uh, what's going on?” he asked, sitting down on the edge of the desk.

“Ray, check my heart, it's too fast,” Gavin said. “It's actually making me feel kinda sick.”

Michael stopped laughing instantly, because Ray took Gavin by the wrist and actually started feeling his pulse. And then, because that apparently wasn't accurate enough, reached out and checked it again at his throat.

“Fuck, it actually is going abnormally fast,” Ray said, sounding somewhat concerned.

“Michael gave me a scare,” Gavin replied.

Ray frowned at Michael, who felt all remaining amusement drain away.

“Jesus Christ, it was a joke,” he said.

“I think it's all the Red Bull, man,” Ray said, turning back to Gavin. “I think you should eat something and, like, lie down for a bit. Seriously. The others won't be back for hours, you have time.”

“Oh come on,” Michael scoffed. “He's fine.”

“If he feels sick, he's not fine.” Ray pushed Gavin gently towards the stairs. “Seriously, go, before you faint or something.”

At which point Gavin actually _left_ , and there was a bit of awkward silence.

“If he just slept at night like a normal person we wouldn't have this problem,” Michael commented.

He didn't mean it too seriously, but Ray turned to him with a glare.

“Fuck, Michael, why'd you have to be such an asshole to him?”

“ _What_?” Michael demanded.

“I mean it. You've done nothing but shit on him since we got here, and blowing up at him yesterday – no pun intended – that was uncalled for.”

“Wow, okay,” Michael said, and felt the beginnings of rage stirring, “It's like you've suddenly forgotten every incident of fucking incompetencehe's pulled since we started.”

“Like everything you do works out all the time.”

“I wasn't aware you had a problem with it.” Michael scowled. “What are you, Ray, fucking protector of the small or some shit? You know I have a low tolerance for crap like this.”

“You're not normally such a blatant _bully_.”

“Bully?!” Michael shouted. “You want to see bullying, Ray, I'll show you fucking _bullying_. If Gavin can't stand the heat he needs to get out of the fucking kitchen because I'm not going to fucking _mollycoddle_ him like you are if he can't do his _fucking job_. You think I'm the only one who's sick of it? Jack's as pissed at him as I am, and I don't even know about Ryan, but just because you're blinded by his _British charms_ or whatever doesn't change the fact that he is a _moron_ who needs to man up and do his job like the rest of us.”

Ray stared at him for a long moment. Then he shook his head. When he smiled, there was no humour in it. Ray didn't get properly angry often, but Michael could tell now that he was _pissed off_ , and it was so unfamiliar to him that for a moment he felt disconcerted.

“You've been acting weird all week, Michael,” Ray said. “I don't know what's got into you. But you need to stop taking it out on Gavin. Because I'm sick of it and it won't be long before Geoff's sick of it as well. You think Gav's the one breaking up our little team here? It's not. It's you.”

“Oh right, a _team_ ,” Michael snapped. “We're not a fucking _team_ , Ray. It's you and me and then the rest of them. We're working together but we're not about to become a damn family or circle jerk or whatever the fuck you're thinking.”

“Well right now,” Ray said, quietly, “I'm feeling like I'd rather work with Gavin a hell of a lot more than I want to work with you. Maybe think about that for a bit.”

Michael's mouth dropped open as Ray turned and headed back upstairs. A wave of hurt washed over him, and he turned away, clenching his fists, nails digging painfully into the palms of his hands. He tried to muster up anger, that familiar burning rage that he was so used to – but it refused to come. He just felt – upset.

Turning, he let out a loud shout, kicking the computer chair clean across the room until it slammed into the opposite wall.

“Fine, Ray, fuck you,” he muttered under his breath. “Fuck you, Gavin. Fuck all of you.”

But try as he might, he couldn't bring himself to feel angry at Ray. Annoyed at Gavin, yes, but Ray – if anything, the urge to make up with him was stronger than anything else. The desire to be friends again – not just friends, something stronger and closer than that-

And whoa, shit, where was _this_ coming from?

_Slow the fuck down_ , Michael thought. And then,  _you won't be God damn_ anything _if this thing with Gavin keeps up._

Scowling, he marched up the stairs and back outside, his stomach twisting painfully. He could deal with the insects if he had to, he just needed to get out of this fucking house – away from Gavin, away from _Ray_.

 

* * *

 

 

It was late afternoon by the time the others returned. Michael had been outside the entire time. In fact, his desire to avoid going inside extended to the point where he'd gone and pissed behind a bush rather than go back into the house.

The first thing he noticed when they got out of the car was that Jack and Geoff weren't ignoring each other any more. In fact, they were even laughing about something together, and Michael felt a stir of annoyance. It really wasn't fair that he should be fucking miserable while everyone around him made up and went back to being friends.

“Anything exciting happen while we were gone?” Geoff asked, as they walked up to the porch.

“Apart from Gavin being a pissy bitch and Ray being an asshole? No,” Michael growled, and Ryan paused in front of him and let out a long groan.

“Fucking _Christ_ , now _you guys_ are fighting? I can't catch a damn break, can I.”

“Shut up and mind your own business, Ryan,” Michael snapped, and marched in after the others.

Ray was sitting in the kitchen, and stood up when the others came back in. “How'd it go?”

“Totally fine,” Geoff replied, moving to pour himself a drink. “We dealt with it. Felix freaked when he realised Ryan was with us. Absolutely no sign of Edgar.”

“He may have been watching,” Ryan cut in. “I wouldn't put it past him. But he didn't follow us back here, so we're alright for now.”

“Told you it'd be fine,” Geoff said, glancing at Jack with a grin. Jack rolled his eyes, but didn't seem overly angry.

“Where's Gavin?” Ryan asked.

“Crashed a couple of hours ago,” Ray said. It was his turn to roll his eyes. “As I expected. He tracked down another guy, though, he's just trying to pinpoint him. I can wake him up if you want.”

Geoff shook his head. “Let him sleep. If he's gonna stay awake all night again he should nap now. If you know what he found out before, you can tell us what he's got so far.”

“Can do,” Ray said. “Come meet me in the basement when you're ready.”

He walked out without even glancing at Michael, who bit his lip and stared resolutely out the window. Geoff left the room, then, after a moment, Ryan. It was Jack who remained, fiddling about getting a glass of water from the sink.

“Glad to see you guys made up,” Michael said sourly, and Jack turned to him with raised eyebrows.

“What's with you?” he asked. “You're pissed at Ray?”

“ _He's_ pissed at _me_ ,” Michael replied. Jack raised his eyebrows and gestured for him to sit at the table.

“Why?”

“Because he thinks I'm _bullying Gavin_.” He snorted loudly. “Jesus, you'd think he'd have realised after six years that I'm a hardass. He _knows_ I find him annoying. I just – I just don't understand?”

It came out more confused – almost vulnerable – than he had intended, and he instantly scowled. Jack didn't laugh, though – just frowned a little.

“Oh, Michael,” he said, and shook his head. “He'll get over it. We're all stressed, we're all not acting like ourselves.”

“Why the fuck were you guys fighting anyway?”

“Geoff is an idiot who only hears what he wants to hear,” Jack replied. “Things turned out fine, but they might not have. We got lucky.”

“But you're not mad at him.”

“Not _now_ I'm not. Ryan's a clever son of a bitch, he has a way of making you see that no matter how fucked up things seem, at least you're not alone like he is. I can't even imagine what it would be like, working by yourself all the time.” He fixed Michael with a measuring look. “And no matter what Ray says, _you're_ the one he's picked to stick with for six years. Five minutes with Gavin won't change that.”

Michael's lips twitched, just slightly, at that. It was some happy-sappy shit but whatever. Jack had a point, but it only marginally made him feel better.

 

* * *

 

 

That night, Michael was reminded of exactly why he hated fighting with Ray.

The thing was, they hadn't actually fought all that often before – certainly never as badly as this. There had been arguments, sure – often when Michael was drunk or angry and Ray got fed up with him. They'd never laster longer than a few hours, though.

So far meals had mostly been a get-your-own sort of thing, which mean Ryan always headed off and ate in his room so that none of them would see his face. Michael didn't see Gavin leave his room, but at some point he'd woken up and gone back down to the basement, and Jack and Geoff went to bring something down to him, presumably intending to hang around in case he made some major development.

Which left Ray and Michael, who the night before had eaten together but now rather awkwardly gathered up their own food without talking to each other before Ray wandered off to sit on the couch and Michael, after hesitating, sat at the table.

God, he hated it.

He hated the fact that they sat in silence, ten metres away from each other, when usually they'd have plenty to talk about. He hated how Ray walked right past him to dump his dishes in the sink before going down to join Gavin and the others.

And he hated how, when the watch was organised (Ryan first, as usual, Jack second) and people began drifting back to their rooms – lights being turned out, save for Gavin in the basement – Ray left without even saying goodnight, and the last thing Michael himself did was glare, just on principle.

 

* * *

 

 

“So Clarence G,” Gavin said. “He's been all over the place. He scouted out that warehouse before Edgar chose it as a hiding spot. There's a few other locations he's frequented and I've been monitoring the surveillance to see if I can catch out any of the others they're working with, but for now we're focused on just taking down Clarence.”

They were all gathered in the basement. Gavin had made steady progress overnight – nocturnalism, it seemed, suited him – and they were set to go out and find their next target.

Michael was glad for the distraction, as Ray was still ignoring him. Or at least, he thought Ray was ignoring him. They hadn't had the chance to talk yet that morning, and when he followed everyone else down to the basement, Ray had gone and stood right next to Gavin, so Michael had taken his place beside Jack instead.

“So where's Clarence now?” Geoff asked.

“That's the thing,” Gavin said. “He went north and disappeared.”

They all glanced at each other.

“What do you mean, disappeared?” Jack asked.

“Not deliberately,” Gavin said. “Not, like, tried to disappear for the purposes of disappearing. I mean he went off into the countryside and I lost track of him because there're no cams out there.”

“So how the fuck do we find him then?” Michael asked. It came out annoyed – as most of his unfiltered speech did – and Ray shot him a glance that he very pointedly did not return.

“Um,” Gavin said.

“What does 'um' mean?” Geoff asked, eyes narrowing suspiciously.

“If we went out there,” Gavin said slowly. “I could feasibly track him down. I mean, I've marked out some places he could be and once we're out there I might be able to narrow it down through his phone and stuff.”

There was a moment of silence.

“You realise that requires you to go out in the field,” Geoff pointed out.

“Yeah, that's what the 'um' was about,” Gavin said, and ran a hand through his hair. He looked agitated, exhausted too, and the grin he gave next was quite forced. “So, uh, we could wait for him to come back to the city I guess.”

“Or you could man the fuck up and come out there with us,” Michael said harshly. A lot of things got on his nerves but at the top of his list were two things: idiocy and cowardice.

Ray could call it 'bullying' all he wanted, but for fuck's sake, what was Gavin's _problem?_ Michael had honestly never met such a ninny in his life. Why should he respect him if he quite clearly didn't give a damn about any of them?

“What would it take to convince you to go out there?” Geoff asked patiently. Jack was frowning again, and who the fuck knew what was going through Ryan's head.

Gavin bit his lip. “I won't go after him once we find him,” he said.

Geoff nodded. “Well, no one expected that anyway.”

“I need to know what precautions you'll take,” Gavin continued. “If something happens.”

“Precautions?” Michael demanded. “You need fucking special _precautions_ taken just for you?! Because your life is just so fucking important-”

“Michael,” Geoff snapped, starting to get annoyed now.

“It does seem kind of excessive,” Jack started, but before a fight could break out, Ryan stepped forward.

“Gavin,” he said. “I am your special precautions.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Michael asked.

Ryan continued to look down at Gavin, ignoring the rest of them. “We'll be travelling light, so as to make a quick move or getaway if need be. That means we'll be sharing tents. Jack and Geoff will be together, obviously, same for Ray and Michael.”

Michael very carefully did not look over at Ray.

“Which means,” Ryan continued, “You and I will be sharing a tent. We both know I barely sleep. Nothing gets past me. As long as you're near me nothing will happen to you, I can guarantee it. One hundred percent success rate, remember?”

Gavin bit his lip.

“What's more,” Ryan said, “We – _I_ – need you to track down the rest of these guys. That means if things go to shit, getting you to safety is my number one priority. Convinced yet?”

After a moment, Gavin gave a hesitant nod.

Michael turned away, feeling sick. One of the best parts of working just him and Ray was that neither of them was in charge. Their lack of disagreements meant there was no need for one of them to be the boss of the other. They worked together seamlessly. There was no hierarchy – and no one got any 'special treatment'.

Seeing everyone pandering to Gavin's every whim – especially Ryan, who he had thought would be above that – it was irritating, to say the least.

“Great!” Geoff said. “Well, that's all settled then. Gavin, go help Jack out with a map. The rest of us can start packing, work out what we need to take.”

As they trooped for the stairs, Michael found himself next to Ray.

“So,” Ray said, in his ear, voice quiet and a bit awkward. “Tent buddies.”

Michael wanted to turn and look at him. But he was concerned about what he might see in Ray's eyes – anger? Disgust? – and, perhaps, even more concerned about what might show in his own. So he stared resolutely ahead, and replied, through his teeth, “Looks like it.”

Well. This was going to be fucking fun.

 

* * *

 

Ryan actually could not care less about Gavin's issues regarding leaving the safety of the house.

But playing babysitter for a few days was a small price to pay in return for getting him out there so they could hunt down Edgar quicker, and it wasn't as though he _disliked_ the guy. In fact, he actually found him quite amusing.

On the drive out to the countryside, in which he was obliged to share a vehicle with Gavin, he learned that the other man could not drive himself, had a staple somewhere inside his ballsack, and, before he got involved with Burnie, had spent a lot of time being hired by people to digitally stalk their spouses and find out whether they were being cheated on.

As much as he talked about himself, he also seemed incessantly curious about Ryan – and not even just about his work as a mercenary. He wanted to know whether he thought dogs were better than cats (“Yes.”), whether he believed in the moon landing, (“I don't know, never really thought about it, but it is a bit suss they never went back up.”) and all manner of other things ranging from which board game the skills needed for his job had made him the best at, to a long and passionate argument about the probability involved in flipping three coins.

They were still fighting about this when they finally arrived in the countryside a few hours north of Achievement City, by a lake equidistant from three towns that Gavin had marked out on the map as their best place to determine Clarence's location from.

It was afternoon when they arrived, and while it wasn't overcast outside, it was cold in the way that inland rural places are always cold.

As soon as he got out of the heated interior of the truck, Gavin leaned over, bracing his hands against his knees, and made some truly terrible noises as though he was about to throw up.

“Ummm,” Ryan said, and hesitated for a second before reaching over to rub his back. “Carsick?”

Gavin shook his head. He seemed to recover just as suddenly as he'd been afflicted, standing up and straightening his hoodie. “Nah. I always get gaggy when the temperature changes.”

“Okay,” Ryan said. “That's... not normal, but I'm going to assume since it hasn't killed you yet you'll be fine.”

Gavin shot him a thumbs up and turned around to the others.

“This the place?” Geoff asked, striding over, and Gavin nodded.

“Yep! I can start setting up my stuff and I'll see if I can get a read on Clarence. I highly doubt in the time since he went off the radar he's managed to get farther north than this.”

“Excellent.” Geoff rubbed his hands together. “Let's scout out a perimeter then get these tents set up.”

It was a lovely area, to be honest, and probably rather popular with campers in the spring and summer. Right now, however, they were quite alone, and they set up a campsite some distance from the water's edge, fenced in on three sides by the parked vehicles.

As he always did when forced to spend a night in an exposed, outdoor area like this, Ryan took some wire and tin cans to set up a perimeter line. Any intruders would make enough noise to alert them all before they could even get near the campsite.

“Ray, come help me with this,” he called.

As the younger man headed over, he noticed a look of the most acute displeasure on his face.

“What's wrong?” Ryan asked, handing him some of the wire as they headed for the nearby treeline. “Not a fan of the great outdoors?”

“An active enemy, actually,” Ray replied, mouth twisting bitterly. “Don't have a problem being out here for jobs, but sleeping overnight...” He shuddered. “Nature and I don't really get along.”

“I think some fresh air would do you good,” Ryan informed him, and Ray pulled a face.

“I was good inside, thanks, where there weren't bugs and leaves and shit.”

“Speaking of shit, someone better dig a latrine,” Ryan muttered. “I guess I'll do it.”

“A fucking _latrine_.” Ray shook his head in disgust. “See! See! This is why I prefer the indoors, you don't need to take your dumps in a fucking hole in the ground.”

Ryan laughed. “With any luck we won't be out here long.”

 

* * *

 

 

As it turned out, they would be.

It didn't take long to get the tents set up, but then Gavin had to set up a bunch of equipment – a good deal of it stuff Ryan didn't even know the names of. Most of it worked through his laptop but setting up even the slowest of internet way out here was a trial, and when he finally got it working he said it would take some time to connect, so they found themselves building a campfire and then sitting around it, unlit, in a rather awkward silence, with hours to kill.

“I'm going fishing,” Geoff announced.

“You brought fucking fishing gear?” Michael asked, from where he was absently scratching at the ground with a stick.

Geoff shrugged. “Why not? It didn't take up too much room. Besides, if some random comes along we have a cover story. We're on a group fishing trip. Come on,” he said, standing up and grabbing Jack by the hand. “Let's go. Nothing else to do while we wait.”

“I'm coming, I'm coming,” Jack said, letting himself be tugged over to the truck.

“Feel free to join us or whatever,” Geoff added, glancing back over his shoulder.

“I don't know how,” Gavin spoke up, and Geoff froze in his tracks.

“You don't know how to fish?” he demanded, and Gavin shook his head. Geoff's gaze swivelled over to Michael and Ray questioningly, and both of them shook their heads as well.

“Dude,” Michael said. “I blow shit up for a living, I don't need to know how to fish.”

“Un be-fucking-lievable,” Geoff said. “Kids these days, Jesus. Come on, you're all learning.”

Ryan settled back by the campsite, watching as the three younger men followed them somewhat hesitantly to the lake. He caught sight of a nearby branch and tugged it over towards him, pulling his knife from his belt and settling down to whittle it. He was not especially talented when it came to carving, but it passed the time – and until Gavin could get his stuff set up, they really did not have anything else to do.

He wasn't particularly offended by not being invited to join them. As it was, he was content to watch, because it was certainly quite entertaining to see Geoff attempting to explain the mechanics of fishing. Jack was a far more patient teacher – though Ray was the only one who seemed any good at following instructions.

“Want to join us, Ryan?” It was Gavin who hollered it out, about twenty minutes in.

Ryan flapped a hand at him, though he couldn't help but smile a little at actually being asked. He wondered how they'd react if he did join them.

Not that he wanted to. There was no need, after all, to bother trying to _bond_ with these people when after this job he'd just be moving on anyway.

“ _Fiiiiiish_!” Gavin screeched suddenly, having spied, it seemed, something under the water.

“Fucking scare them all away why don't you,” Michael snapped.

When Ryan next looked up, it seemed that Ray and Gavin had lost interest and were trudging instead along the lake bed, poking in the mud with several long sticks. Michael was still resolutely attempting to fish, though no one had caught anything yet. Ryan frowned a bit as he noticed Michael's continual glances up at Ray, whenever he was sure the other man wasn't looking.

 _Not even subtle, Jones,_ he thought.

That was one fight he couldn't fix so easily, though. Better to wait and see how things played out.

“Hey Vav, check this out,” he heard Ray say, and looked over to see him bend down and hook something from the lake bed on the end of his stick. He lifted it up – something black and dripping – and swung it towards Gavin, who turned away and retched so loudly that everyone over by the water looked up.

“That's bloody mingin' Ray, put it down!” Gavin shouted.

With a wicked grin Ray brandished the stick, moving it closer towards him, and with a screech Gavin ran, nearly slipping in the mud. Ray chased after him, and they played cat and mouse for a while before Gavin, cornered between the water and whatever disgusting object Ray had discovered, ran up to Geoff and proceeded to attempt to climb onto his shoulders.

“Whoa!” Geoff stumbled, off balance, but Gavin clung like a limpet and in an extraordinary feat of agility, actually managed to pull himself up onto Geoff's back and balance himself there.

“You're gonna fall in the fucking water,” Michael commented, and Jack stood back with a slight frown and hands on his hips.

“I'm gonna vom if that gets near me,” Gavin warned. “Ray, put it down, you rinsy little spaf.”

“Don't you dare throw up on my head,” Geoff cried, trying to reach up and grab him, though he was laughing.

“ _Rinsy little spaf_?” Ray questioned. “Speak English, Gavin.”

“I am speaking English, you smegpot,” Gavin shot back. “I am speaking the Queen's English and I should know.”

“Get down off there before you all fall in and get wet,” Jack called. He looked a little unimpressed that another guy was hanging all over his boyfriend.

Geoff spun around and managed to dislodge Gavin, who fell towards the water with a shriek. Fortunately they were in the shallows and he managed to land on his feet, though his jeans were quickly soaked to the knees.

Ryan couldn't help but snort. It was certainly a sight, the criminal overlord of Achievement City being climbed like a set of monkey bars by a hyperactive twenty-something.

“The fuck is that anyway?” Geoff asked, turning towards Ray's stick with a wrinkled nose.

Ray shrugged. He flicked it away and it landed in the water with a splash. “I dunno, a dead bird or some shit. Too decomposed to tell.”

“Maybe it was a human body part,” Michael spoke up, wickedly, and Gavin doubled over, gagging again.

“Shut up Michael, you bloody prick,” he said. “It _wasn't_.”

“Oh, I don't know.” Geoff tilted his head. “I've disposed of people in lakes before. Wouldn't be surprised.”

Jack nodded sagely, stroking his beard, and Gavin gave them all the finger before stumbling out of the water and back towards Ryan.

“Now my bloody trousers are all wet,” he complained, plopping down by the unlit fire and stretching his legs out. His eyes fell on the stick Ryan was whittling. “What are you making?”

“Nothing,” Ryan replied – he'd been carving absently, not particularly thinking about it – but Gavin reached out and snatched it, nearly losing a finger to Ryan's knife.

“It looks like a nob,” he declared. And then hollered out, “Ryan carved a nob!”

“Like a door knob?” Ray called back.

“No, like a penis nob!”

“Come on, I didn't,” Ryan said, taking it back – although on closer inspection, there was something a bit accidentally phallic about it. He tossed it into the campfire bed with the rest of the wood they'd gathered and hoped that it didn't say something about his underlying mental state.

“Do you have dicks on the mind, Ryan?” Gavin asked, because he apparently didn't know when to drop something.

“Yes,” Ryan replied darkly, just to shut him up – because _everything_ sounded menacing when you accompanied it with a stare from The Mask. Gavin seemed lost for words for a minute before he turned away, looking almost embarrassed. Ryan could swear he was blushing slightly, but then he got up and headed off into the tent, muttering about changing into something dry.

The sun was just beginning to set by now, the first streaks of pink and gold rippling across the sky. The others came in from the lake, Geoff moving to pack away his fishing gear. Ryan got to his feet and stretched.

“I'm gonna take a quick look around the perimeter,” he said, and Jack turned to him.

“Good idea. I'll take that side, it'll be quicker if we go halves.”

Ryan nodded. He went over to his tent, intending to grab his gun, but no sooner had he pulled open the flap than there was a loud shriek from inside and a flurry of motion as Gavin dived under his blanket.

“Ryan!” he squawked. “Knock first! I'm getting changed!”

Ryan paused, bemused. “Okay, firstly it's a _tent_ , I can't knock. Secondly, why the fuck would I care? I promise you I've seen worse than some other guy's business.”

And then, when Gavin made no response, “Dude. I was joking about the dicks on the mind thing.”

“I know,” Gavin replied, poking the top of his head out from under the blankets. He seemed unusually rattled – less embarrassed and more almost frightened. Ryan frowned.

“Just – call out next time, okay?” Gavin asked, “Let's not make this awkward.”

_No one's making it awkward but you,_ Ryan thought. He shrugged, though.

“Fine.”

 

* * *

 

 

That night, as they all sat gathered around the crackling campfire, Ryan could not help but feel as though he was on a glorified camping trip.

Gavin had finally gotten things up and running, some time earlier, but Clarence wouldn't be going anywhere in the middle of the night – hopefully, anyway – so they still had plenty of time.

Which led to them sitting out here, under the stars. There was a brisk chill in the night air, but the fire itself was warming and for a moment Ryan felt almost peaceful. He quickly shoved that feeling down, though.

_Stay on your guard. This is a mission. These people are a means to an end, not your camp buddies._

That being said, it was impossible not to realise that something was off. Michael and Ray were sitting on opposite sides of the fire; Michael beside Jack, Ray beside Gavin. They'd barely spoken a word to each other all evening.

“You don't get stars like this in Achievement City,” Geoff said, breaking the silence that had nearly been lulling them to sleep.

Ryan looked up. It was pretty spectacular; he hadn't been out of cities much in the last few months and it was a nice change to see something other than smog in the sky.

“Blame global warming,” Ray said, automatically, and Geoff snorted.

“Geoff,” Gavin piped up. “How'd you and Jack end up together?”

There was a moment of silence as Geoff processed this unexpected question. Jack sat up a little straighter. Ryan couldn't help but be curious himself; as far as he knew it wasn't a story that had ever been told before, or certainly not one he'd heard. And he'd never been particularly interested in knowing the details but here, now, with the two men themselves – he started to wonder.

“Uh,” Geoff said. “It's actually the most boring fucking thing ever.”

“Still want to know,” Gavin replied instantly.

Ray and Michael had both leaned forward, seemingly curious as well.

“Suit yourself,” Geoff said. “We met ages ago, when we were both working for some other guy, and when I decided to break off and make it for myself he came with me. By that point we'd been friends for like five years. And then we worked together for another six years and then one day we, I don't know. Things just changed and we were all hey, we're not just friends anymore!”

“And then you got yourself kidnapped,” Jack cut in, drily.

Geoff nodded. “Yep, and then I got kidnapped and Jack rescued me and we kissed and then we banged and lah de fucking dah we ended up together and then stayed together for the next, like, five years and shit.”

“What do you mean,” Michael asked, “things 'just changed'?” He sounded almost worried, though Ryan doubted any of the others had picked up on it.

Geoff shrugged. “I don't know. Hard to explain. We were really close friends and then we just realised we both wanted more.”

“You're the worst bloody story teller,” Gavin cried.

“Fuck you, I'm the best story teller,” Geoff replied. “Like I said, that one's just boring.”

He then proceeded to regale them with an epic tale of a previous encounter with Felix, which, to be fair, was rather more exciting. But Ryan was far more intrigued by Michael, who had developed a sudden interest in pulling out all the grass on the ground around him and steadfastly looking anywhere but at Ray.

Finally they fell silent. Ryan checked his watch; it was almost midnight. It was strange being out here; the house had been quieter than the city but the actual outdoors seemed far more exposed. He'd worked overnight jobs before, and had spent his fair share of time camping out – never with a group though. It felt far less vulnerable knowing there were others around if something went wrong.

“I'll take first watch,” Ray spoke up suddenly.

“I've got second,” Michael added, and they glanced at each other for half a second before turning away.

_Clever_ , thought Ryan – they'd avoid both being in the tent at the same time. Wouldn't have to speak to each other.

Still, it left him in the position of having to actually go to bed at a reasonable hour for once. With mumbled goodnights, they left for their tents, Ray moving to sit a little closer to the fire where he had a better vantage point of the entire site.

“Are you going to sleep with your mask on?” Gavin asked, ducking under Ryan's arm as he held the tent flap open for him. His tone was unabashedly curious, almost hopeful – and Ryan couldn't help but grin.

“Sorry, Gavin, you won't be seeing my face this time,” he replied. He normally did take it off to sleep, but only when he was somewhere he was certain was safe – and behind a locked door. It was uncomfortable keeping it on for too long, of course, but he was used to it by now.

“What if I wait until you fall asleep and then have a cheeky peek underneath?” Gavin asked.

“I would break your wrist in my sleep,” Ryan replied, brightly, and Gavin started laughing before realising Ryan was not laughing himself. And then blanched.

“You're bloody creepy, Ryan,” he informed him, and Ryan smirked.

 

* * *

 

 

“Ryan,” said Gavin.

It was very dark, the fire outside having burnt down to coals a while ago, and silent save for the occasional trill of cicadas. Ryan was lying awake, absently running his fingers over the seams of his sleeping bag and tugging out stray threads.

Gavin had sat awake for a long time, engaged with his machines. They'd spoken on and off for some time before Gavin fell silent, absorbed by typing.

Ryan had already realised that this would be one of the nights where he got little sleep; he didn't feel tired at all and Gavin, avoiding sleep himself, hadn't questioned it.

“What?” Ryan replied.

“I have a question for you.” Gavin leaned forward and Ryan twisted around to see him. He was lit up by his laptop screen, a dim blue glow in the confined space of the tent.

“Do you reckon,” Gavin continued, “That if two people swapped bodies their sleeping habits would be the same? Like you have insomnia, right?”

Ryan blinked. He didn't recall mentioning it, but Gavin must have worked it out somehow – he was, it seemed, far more astute than they all gave him credit for. Then again, he made a living noticing things.

“Yes,” he replied slowly.

“So if you swapped bodies with, say, Jack,” Gavin said. “Would you still have insomnia, do you think? Is it something in your brain or is it to do with your experiences and memories?”

“I... honestly don't know,” Ryan replied after a moment's thought. “I don't know the mechanics or the biology behind sleep disorders. It's possible it's something in the brain that would stick with the meat, not the mind.”

“The  _meat not the mind_ ,” Gavin scoffed, and chuckled about that for a little while.

Silence fell again. Michael's words from yesterday abruptly drifted back into Ryan's head.  _He's not scared of you._ Now was as good a time as any to bring it up.

“I've got a question for you now,” he said.

“Fire at will,” Gavin replied, shifting across the tent to flop down on his own sleeping bag.

“Why aren't you scared of me?” Ryan asked.

A moment of slightly strained silence.

“Uhh, should I be?” Gavin replied, cautiously.

“Yes,” Ryan said. “Michael brought it up – that it's strange you were scared about Thaddeus when I'm far more dangerous than he is. It's can't just be because we're on the same side. For all you know I could be planning to kill you all once I have what I want.”

“That would be very mean, Ryan,” Gavin informed him, and sighed. “No, you're right, I... I guess you just remind me of someone I used to know. That's why I don't find you so intimidating.”

Ryan fell silent, thinking about this. It was... odd, to say the least. No one knew him half well enough for him to even begin reminding them of someone, surely.

“What do you mean?” he asked. “How do I remind you of him. Him? Her?”

“Him,” Gavin confirmed. “And – I don't know, I guess. Well, the mercenary thing for one, he was a merc too.”

“There's a _lot_ of mercs out there.”

“I know, I wasn't done. Umm, you said you would keep me safe – he did too. And he just... well, you answer all my stupid questions,” Gavin said, almost babbling. “You don't yell or laugh at me for them. Well, you laugh sometimes but you actually give them thought and answer them.”

That was... true. Ryan wasn't sure why, he supposed because he'd never been one to pass up a conversation that interested him. And Gavin's questions might be nonsensical and idiotic half the time, but they were always interesting.

“That's the main one I guess,” Gavin said, almost thoughtfully. “You don't make me feel stupid like a lot of people sometimes do. That's very Him.”

“Is he dead?” Ryan couldn't help asking.

“What?” He heard a rustle as Gavin rolled over to stare at him. “No! No, he's still alive. Went overseas I think, we haven’t spoken in a while. Anyway. That's my answer, you remind me of a guy I know – a friend. A friend I know. Does it annoy you? That I'm not scared?”

“Nah,” Ryan replied.

“Good,” Gavin said.

There was a moment of silence.

Gavin cleared his throat. “So if you toss three coins-”

  
“Oh Jesus don't start that again.”

 

* * *

 

 

Even when Ryan did manage to fall asleep, it was painfully light and disturbed by the faintest sound. He woke up as soon as Michael got out of his tent to swap watch shifts with Ray, and again when Michael walked off to take a piss. And then, of course, there was Gavin – Gavin who sporadically tossed and turned, thrashed about and moaned – and, a couple of times, woke up completely and sat upright in bed, almost gasping for breath, obviously plagued by something.

Ryan couldn't bring himself to let the other man know he was awake – he could hear him trying to be quiet, trying to slow his breathing and not make a sound to disturb him – and he appreciated the effort enough to pretend it was working.

When dawn finally crept around, he sat up. Gavin had fallen back asleep, slumped half-out of his sleeping bag with his head resting on his laptop. Ryan moved quietly so as not to wake him up, pulling on his jacket and shoes before grabbing his gun and slipping outside.

He waved at Michael as he passed before heading off to do a perimeter check. It was habitual by now to never assume that just because the night was quiet, things hadn't happened in it unseen. But all around the campsite was as it should be.

It took him about half an hour to look around, but everyone was still in their tents when he got back.

Unthinkingly, he flung open the flap of his to go inside, and Gavin let out a loud yelp.

He had forgotten about the rule.

He had completely forgotten about it – had assumed Gavin was still sleeping, that he wouldn't need to call out a warning before entering – only Gavin, it seemed, had woken up and decided to change his t-shirt for something warmer. He was just pulling it off when Ryan entered.

And that's when he saw the scars.

Long, roping scars that criss-crossed Gavin's back and chest with a methodical precision that made Ryan's stomach drop. These were the sort of wounds intended to hurt, not kill.

Gavin was staring at him, eyes wide as a deer in the headlights. He made to pull his shirt back on but Ryan stepped forward quickly. Crouched next to him and grabbed his wrist, tugging his arm away from his body to get a better look.

Though they were healed enough that he couldn't tell what had made them, these wounds were nowhere near fading. They weren't years old, they were _months_ old. He heard Gavin swallow, audibly.

“What the fuck happened to you?” Ryan asked, low and angry, the words slipping out almost without him willing them to. “Who did this?”

Gavin pulled feebly at his wrist, but Ryan gripped tighter, refusing to let go. And he'd seen worse – God, he'd seen _so much_ worse over the years – so why couldn't he look away?

Gavin swallowed again. He was breathing too fast, Ryan noticed absently.

“Why do you care?” he croaked out, finally.

And those were the words that made Ryan freeze.

Because he didn't – he _didn't – I don't care, I don't care at all_ – caring was a weakness, and these people weren't his friends – they weren't a team, not the way he'd had a team before – he couldn't _let them_ be.

His moment's pause was all Gavin needed to pull away, to tug a shirt and jacket on and practically flee from the tent, tripping over his own feet on the way out.

Ryan let him go. He remained kneeling where he was, thoughts whirling. He felt sick, and uneasy, and it wasn't just from what he'd seen – it was from what it had made him feel.

 


	4. Chapter 4

Gavin was shaking as he stumbled from the tent, his shoelaces untied, his jacket only half zipped up. He balled his hands into fists and shoved them in his pockets, trying to calm down.

_Get a grip. Get a grip. Get a_ bloody grip.

“The hell's wrong with you?”

Michael's voice made him jump. His head snapped up to find the other man staring at him from where he was sitting, stoking the fire.

“Nothing,” Gavin replied. His voice shook more than he liked, and he swallowed a few times, running a hand through his hair nervously. “Nothing. Everything's _fine_.”

Michael's eyebrows rose in disbelief. But there was no sympathy in his expression, just a bland sort of curiosity, and Gavin turned and strode off towards the tree line.

“Hey, where the fuck are you going?” he heard Michael call, but ignored him.

The lake was situated in a clear patch of ground, but sparse forestry surrounded it, and it was here that Gavin headed – needing to get away, needing some distance. He walked until he reached the makeshift fence that Ryan had set up – tin cans and bottles strung along a piece of wire – and considered ducking under it.

_I could walk away right now._

Maybe he ought to. Maybe he had been a fool to accept this job in the first place – just because it was Geoff Ramsey didn't mean things would turn out alright. This was dangerous, and half of the people he was working with hated him, and even the ones who didn't hate him he couldn't trust. The same thing might happen all over again, and –

And –

And Ryan might very well _remind_ him of Dan but when it came down to it, he _wasn't._

He wasn't Dan, and he quite obviously didn't care, and for him Gavin was just a means to an end. And once that end was reached – well, he was disposable, wasn't he? Just like he'd been last time.

“Gavin!”

It was Ray who had come to find him, hair sleep-tousled and glasses crooked. It seemed he'd heard Michael shouting and made after Gavin instantly.

“What happened?” Ray asked. He glanced between Gavin and the wire. “You running away?”

“No,” Gavin replied, and forced a grin, but he could tell Ray wasn't fooled. He let it drop, wondering just how bad of a mess he must look.

“What happened?” Ray repeated. “Did Ryan do something?”

“No.”

“You can tell me, Gav – if he did something, I'll have at him for you.”

“Ryan didn't do anything.” And Ray's tone was genuine, but everything was flooding back now. Damn it all, if only Ryan hadn't _seen_. Because other people seeing meant other people knowing, and other people knowing made it all too real – something that had actually happened, not just an event that haunted Gavin and Gavin alone, something he could pretend existed only in his thoughts and nightmares.

He had been friendly with Ray – Geoff too, and Ryan – but now his doubts from before were rising back up. They got along, sure, but when it came down to it, Ray didn't know him. Gavin couldn't trust that if something went to shit right now Ray would help him instead of running off to save himself, or Michael.

“Okay, now you're looking at me weird,” Ray said, and Gavin jerked back to attention. “You don't have to talk about it-”

“Good,” Gavin snapped. It came out harsher than he'd intended, but it was too late to do anything about that now. “Because I'm not going to.”

Ray blinked at him. “Jesus, okay, just trying to help out. Well, if you're not leaving, then come back to camp before everyone else starts freaking out.”

Gavin nodded, and followed him, and forced a smile when Ray kept shooting him concerned glances. He would have believed them, once – but people, he had learned, were very good at caring as long as you were useful to them, and forgetting about you once you were not.

 

* * *

 

 

Ryan had joined Michael by the fire when they got back, and was boiling a pot of water. He looked up at Gavin and gave him a long, long stare, but with the mask covering his whole face, Gavin couldn't tell what he was thinking.

Considering it was a main part of his job to clean up footage, to read cues in slowed down body movements and facial expressions, having that barrier was disconcerting. Especially now, when he knew Ryan knew, and just looking at him made him start thinking about it again.

He quickly retreated to his tent.

“The fuck's his problem?” He heard Michael say loudly from outside.

“Leave it,” Ryan replied shortly. “He didn't sleep well, that's all.”

Hm. So Ryan was going to keep what he'd found to himself. In that case...

For the last few months Gavin's motto had been that if you just didn't think about something, you could pretend it had never happened, and live in a blissful state of denial fuelled by alcohol and sleep deprivation. It was probably not the healthiest coping mechanism, but it worked for him.

Truth be told, much as getting this job had plunged him back into danger or whatever, it had actually been a relief to get back to work – especially around people who would engage in banter with him. The more he acted normally, the more he could convince himself that things _were_ normal, and fine, and the bad dreams that plagued him nightly were just that. Dreams.

With this in mind, he took a deep breath. Closed his eyes. And proceeded to try and wipe every trace of Ryan discovering his secret from his mind. They could just ignore it and carry on as normal, initial freak-out be damned.

And then, once this was done, he opened up his laptop and got back to work.

 

* * *

 

 

Ray hated camping out for a great many reasons, one of which was the sheer level of extra maintenance you needed to do to keep your weapons in top order. Still, it passed the time as they sat about waiting for Gavin to finish doing his thing.

_Gavin_. Ray couldn't help but frown at the thought of him.

They had only known each other for three days, true, but in those three days Ray had thought he had a pretty good read on the other man. He'd seemed quite simple – laid back, good sense of humour, a bit twitchy, but that was to be expected given the level of danger associated with their jobs.

But his angry outburst back at the tree line – that was something Ray hadn't seen coming. Whatever was going on here, it was obviously eating at Gavin something bad.

_Mind your own fucking business, Narvaez,_ he told himself, shaking his head. _Why do you give a shit, anyway? You barely know him._

“'sup guys,” Geoff said, moving over to the fire. “How's Gav going in there?”

Ray was sitting a little way away from the others, Ryan and Jack over by the fire where Geoff joined them.

“He's fine,” Ryan replied. “Don't disturb him. He'll tell us when he gets something.”

“Hey Ray.”

Ray's head snapped up as he caught sight of Michael, moving towards him from the other side of the camp. He couldn't help but stiffen a little. The silent treatment they'd been giving each other was getting to him more than he liked to admit, and it seemed Michael had had enough. 

“'sup Michael,” he replied, shifting over a little. Michael came and sat next to him. He opened his mouth to speak, but then Ray heard Ryan start to talk again and held up a hand to shush him.

“Ray-”

“Shh,” Ray hissed. “One sec.”

Michael looked confused, but Ray didn't have time to explain right now. Whatever had happened with Gavin, Ryan was the last person to see him acting normally, and if he had to eavesdrop to find out what was going on, well, that's what he'd do.

“Hey Geoff,” Ryan was saying. “Do you know who Gavin was working for before you hired him?”

There was a pause, and Ray resisted the urge to turn his head around fully to look at them and give away that he was listening in. After a moment, Geoff replied:

“He wasn't working for anyone. He was taking a break.”

“Before that, though. The last job he took before he came with us.”

“Fuck, I dunno – uhhh, Burnie said he hadn't been taking jobs for a couple months because the last one went wrong. I don't know the details. Why the sudden interest?” 

“No reason,” Ryan replied smoothly. “We were just talking last night. I was curious.”

“Hm. Well, you're better off asking Gavin himself, since no one told me.”

Ray turned back to the ground in front of him, a small frown playing at his lips. It was obvious that Ryan knew something – was trying to find some answers as well – but for whatever reason, didn't want to ask Gavin directly.

“Ray?” Michael questioned, quietly, and Ray jerked back around to look at him, having half forgotten he was there. 

“What? Sorry, got distracted.”

“Eavesdropping on Ryan?” Michael asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” Ray replied. “Something's up with Gav. Why'd he run off this morning? Did he say anything to you before he left?”

For whatever reason, the mention of Gavin's name made Michael's mouth twist. He didn't look angry, though, not the way he normally did. In fact, he seemed almost hesitant and unsure of himself, and it was such a foreign look on him that Ray had no idea what to think. 

“No,” Michael replied. “I'm sure he's fine. Maybe he does this all the time. We wouldn't know, would we? He's practically a stranger.”

“Yeah, but... I don't know. It worried me a bit.”

“Since when do you worry about other people?” Michael asked, and Ray frowned at him.

“Dude, don't start this shit again. I get it, you don't like him – but that doesn't mean I can't.”

And it was frustrating him – he hadn't minded Michael's attitude earlier, had put it down to stress and his being concerned about Ray's welfare (he had nearly died under that train, after all). But then, when it continued needlessly, when he started casually putting Gavin down when the other man wasn't even around... 

It was uncharacteristically mean of him, and it was this more than anything that was upsetting Ray. Michael could be a dick, he knew that, but for some reason Ray had quickly become very fond of Gavin. It was one thing for Michael to be acting strangely, another entirely to take it out on people who didn't deserve it. That wasn't all that was getting to him – it was the fact that Michael's odd behaviour had persisted to the point where they were both ignoring each other. 

The awkwardness that had hung between them since yesterday was making Ray's skin crawl. Especially given how much he was hating this camping trip so far – having Michael to laugh and complain with about them having to go all Man vs Wild for this mission would have made things far more bearable, instead of him spending half the night lying alone in a tent that seemed to have been set up over the lumpiest, rockiest part of the ground possible.

At Ray's harsh tone, Michael swallowed, looking away. He still seemed oddly subdued, and for a moment Ray felt a little guilty at having snapped.

“Whatever, man,” Michael ground out finally. “I just wanted to ask how your arm was.” 

Ray blinked a few times.

“Oh, right,” he said, and rolled up his sleeve. “It's fine, I think. Healing.” He picked at the edge of the bandage – Jack had changed it for him earlier that morning. The knife wound from the fight with Thaddeus wasn't too serious, though it would probably leave some sort of scar. 

“Good,” Michael said, a little awkwardly. “That's... good.”

They sat in a very uncomfortable silence for a few moments. Neither of them apologised, neither of them made a move to reconcile.

“Gotta go take a leak,” Michael muttered finally, and then got up and left.

Ray deflated a little. He realised his shoulders were very tense and forced himself to relax.

_This is fucked up_. He and Michael had never fought like this before – this was unfamiliar territory and he had no idea what to do.

“Ray,” Jack called out. Ray glanced up and found the older man beckoning him. After a moment he got up and moved over to join them.

“Everything alright with Michael?” Jack asked, and Ray started to nod, then hesitated.

“Hell, I don't know any more.” He paused, casting Ryan a suspicious glance, as the comments the other had made some days before – when they went for the drive together – returned to him. The last thing he wanted was Ryan thinking Michael couldn't pull his weight, or wasn't trustworthy – but Ryan just looked at him with a speculative little frown, as though he were a puzzle he couldn't quite work out.

Jack was frowning too. “You two want to sort that out any time soon?”

“We're fine,” Ray replied, stiffly. “It's nothing that concerns you guys.”

“If you say so,” Jack said, not sounding very convinced. He also didn't look very sympathetic – at least not towards Ray, who abruptly recalled that Jack was not exactly Gavin Free's number one fan either.

God, what had he gotten himself into? This was why he'd always preferred working just him and Michael. Nothing getting between them and none of this domestic shit.

“ _Got it_!”

The holler came from inside Gavin's tent, and a moment later he stuck his head out the flap. His hair was slightly dishevelled where he'd been wearing headphones, and his grin was back on his face. In fact, he seemed completely recovered from whatever incident had happened this morning – on the surface, at least.

“I've got it,” he repeated. “I've found him.”

 

* * *

 

 

It had taken a while to locate Clarence because there was very little to go on up here in the rural areas. However, Gavin had managed to get a hold of his cellphone signal – a temporary phone, as were commonly used in this sort of business, but one that he'd recognised from a previous transaction made back when Clarence was in Achievement City.

“I don't have eyes on him,” Gavin said, “But he's here.” He pointed to a little town on the map, east of the lake and perhaps an hour's drive away. “It's a little hole of a place, but I guess Edgar wants a base out here. He's either meeting somebody or looking to obtain a property, but either way he's in this town, so...”

“Good job,” Geoff said, clapping him on the shoulder.

Ray shot Gavin a thumbs up, and the man smiled back – Ray was surprised (but not unpleased) to find that whatever slight awkwardness there might have been between them from earlier had vanished. Now if only he could say the same for Michael.

“So what's the plan?” Michael asked, observing these proceedings with crossed arms. “We surround the town, head in and-”

“You're not going,” Ryan cut in.

There was a moment of silence in which they all looked at him, aghast.

“What,” Michael said, slowly.

“You're not going,” Ryan repeated. “Or you, Geoff,” he added, when the other opened his mouth to protest. “Or Jack. Just Ray and I.”

Michael darted a quick, confused glance at Ray, who shrugged. _What the fuck is Ryan playing at?_

“I'm a little confused,” Jack began. “Why, exactly, are only two of us going in? Surely we-”

“Surely we don't want to lose the element of surprise,” Ryan said. “Which we will, if six of us trundle into a tiny town like that, guns blazing – yes, _six_ , because we can't leave Gavin here on his own. If something happens he won't be able to drive himself. And since we've given our word that he doesn't have to come into town with us, that means someone would be staying back anyway to keep an eye on him.”

“Great,” Michael said, throwing his hands up. “Free's need for a damn babysitter getting all up in our plans again.”

“Why can't he just stay here by himself?” Jack asked. “What could possibly happen?” 

Ray looked over at Gavin, who was remaining silent but seemed very, very uncomfortable; his arms were wrapped around himself again and his gaze was fixed on Ryan intently. 

“You should know by now that it pays to prepare for every possibility,” Ryan spoke up. “And as I said; that town is tiny. We'll be hard pressed to get two people in unnoticed, let alone all of us. Moreover, Clarence isn't like Thaddeus – he only has one bodyguard with him and he isn't a trained fighter himself. It won't take all five of us to bring him down. We don't want to draw Edgar's attention too suddenly; he's probably already suss from what happened to Thaddeus. No need to go for overkill. Two of us will suffice.”

“Why Ray?” Michael snapped.

“Because nothing needs blowing up,” Ryan replied patiently. “And Ray and I are the best shots here. Now, does anyone have a _legitimate_ complaint, or shall we get on with things?”

“Hell yeah I have a complaint,” Michael growled, “When the fuck did we all decide Ryan was in charge? Aren't you the boss here?” he added, turning to Geoff, who very helpfully stroked his moustache. 

“Ehh, I think he might have a point.”

Michael scowled. He turned to Ray next. “Don't you have a problem with this?!”

“Not really, no,” Ray replied – but his stomach dropped when he saw Michael's face fall a little before he quickly pasted on a glare instead. It took a _lot_ to get to his friend, he knew that – and despite their fighting earlier he hadn't meant to imply that he didn't want Michael to come along, that he thought he'd work better alone or with Ryan – but Michael didn't know that, of course, and _dear God_ things were just getting more and more fucked up.

“We're in agreement, then,” Ryan said.

Geoff nodded. “You and Ray go in, the rest of us stay here and you call us if anything changes or you need back up.”

“Should we go now or wait for dark?” Ray asked.

“Go now,” Gavin piped up. “Since I can't maintain a constant eye on him we need to get there before he moves out of town. The longer we wait, the more likely it is that he'll change location. I can update you periodically if he uses his phone or I catch a glimpse of him, but that may not happen, so. Best to move quickly.”

“Right then,” Ryan said. “We'll take one vehicle but split up once we're in-town, scout him out and then meet back up to form a plan.” He waved a hand and Gavin handed him a map of the town itself, a rather grainy thing that was probably just a printout from google maps. “We'll head in from this entrance, that will make us look touristy rather than anything else.”

“Won't your mask draw attention?” Jack pointed out. “How do you get around with that thing, anyway?”

“I'm good at moving unseen,” Ryan replied. “Which is why Ray can check the people-heavy locations first – post office, town centre, that sort of thing.”

“Sounds good to me,” Ray replied.

Geoff clapped his hands together. “Then let's get going before he moves.”

Ryan remained in the tent with Gavin as they all trooped out, gathering up his belongings. Barely had they left, though, than Geoff grabbed Ray's arm and propelled him a few metres away, out of the tent's hearing distance. Jack and Michael followed.

“Uhh, what?” Ray asked.

Geoff released his arm in favour of grabbing his shoulders. “Alright, Ray, you're gonna be alone out there so you need to keep a careful eye out.”

“I always keep a careful eye out,” Ray replied, “But I'm a little confused.”

“He means _Ryan_ ,” Michael said. He locked eyes with Ray and they stared at each other intently for a moment. “Keep a careful eye out on Ryan.” 

Ray frowned a little. “You don't trust him.”

“Do you?” Geoff demanded.

Ray shook his head. “Well, no, but I also didn't think he was going to turn on us.”

“What Geoff means,” Jack spoke up, “Is that we know you and Michael, and we hired Gavin, but Ryan – Ryan just showed up out of nowhere and volunteered. Sure, he never gave us trouble before, but his reputation... I don't like that he's getting us out of the way and only taking you on this job, it seems suss, no matter what he says. So just keep a careful look out and let us know if he does anything fishy.”

“Alright,” Ray replied, though he was starting to feel a little uneasy. They'd planted doubt in his mind now, and he couldn't help but start to wonder exactly what Ryan's motivations were here. Sure, he wanted to kill Edgar – but _why_?

Geoff nodded, approvingly, and stepped back.

“I'll go get one of the cars ready for you,” he said, and wandered off with Jack, leaving Michael and Ray standing in a slightly awkward silence.

“Been a while since we went on a solo mission,” Michael said quietly.

“It's not solo, I'm with Ryan,” Ray replied.

Michael shook his head. “Y'know what I mean.”

It was true – now and then they'd gone off to do jobs on their own, but not for the last few years. They'd always done things the two of them, or with a couple of other people along.

“Well,” Michael said, when Ray didn't reply. “Uh. Be careful then.”

“I will,” Ray replied, and there was _another_ awkward pause – but then Ryan emerged from the tent, and Michael turned away, and Ray could not bring himself to reach out after him.

 

* * *

 

 

“I know you want to ask me something,” Ryan said.

Ray frowned. They were about halfway to the town and had thus far driven in silence, but it was a little hard to ignore each other when there was nothing out the window except grass and the occasional cow. Ray had quickly discovered that cows were not very interesting.

“Why?” Ray asked, turning to him.

“Why what?”

“Why me?” 

Ryan was silent a moment, fingers drumming at the steering wheel. “Is it really that hard to work out?” he asked finally.

Ray raised his eyebrows. “I dunno if you're deliberately trying to be mysterious or if you just don't realise how hard it is to work out what the guy in the _full face mask_ is thinking.” 

Ryan let out a low chuckle. “I thought I explained myself fairly well back there,” he said. “Too many of us will draw attention and-”

“Bullshit,” Ray cut in. “You're not the only one who's done jobs like this before. We could have made it work – and with Edgar about, there's safety in numbers. We agreed to this plan because it wasn't worth the argument and you might be right. I don't doubt you and I can handle this just fine on our own, but it still begs the question – _why_?”

 Ryan was silent again. Then he turned towards Ray, who shifted uneasily in his seat, suddenly recalling Geoff's warning from earlier. Ryan might have been friendly so far, but they couldn't let their guard down – couldn't forget that he was one of the most dangerous men in the country.

 “Fine,” Ryan said. “I didn't want to take Michael with us because you two are fighting.”

“We're not,” Ray denied, rather uselessly, and mostly just on principle.

“Don't bullshit me, kid, we can all see it a mile away.”

“You didn't need to worry about that. We're both professional, we'd have made it work-”

“I can't take my chances on that, not with what's at stake here,” Ryan snapped. “Is it _professional_ to ignore each other twenty-four seven? Is it professional for _all_ of you – Jack and Geoff, too, Michael and Gavin – to get in little bitch fights over the time? It's not fucking professional at all, and I've put up with it so far because I need you all, but if I've learned anything in my many, many years of experience, it's that personal attachments to people you work with always end up like this. Bitching and fighting. So that's why, for this mission, I needed to go solo, with you for back up.”

Ray sat silent, frowning. A large part of him was insulted by the insinuation that he and Michael would not have been able to keep their minds on the job had they both gone; he was fairly sure they would have.

But all in all, Ryan's words only reinforced just how distant he and Michael had become over the last twenty four hours. Suddenly he missed the other man, wished he was sitting in the backseat to talk back to Ryan and give him a piece of his mind, fly into one of his famous rants that would probably have shut the mercenary right up if only due to sheer volume.

“Why not Geoff then?” he asked quietly.

“That was for Gavin's sake,” Ryan replied tersely. “I wanted you with me and I didn't want to leave him alone back there with Jack and Michael. Geoff likes him, he'll take care of him.”

“That is remarkably and suspiciously considerate of you,” Ray said, fixing him with a measuring look. 

“Don't mistake it for consideration,” Ryan said coldly, “I need Gavin alive and on our side to bring down Edgar.”

“So let me get this straight,” Ray said, “You're not really a team player at all, are you?” He folded his arms, watched Ryan's jaw clench and a muscle jump in the side of his neck. As before, the mention of anything team related had made him tense. “You're just in this for yourself.”

“If I ever made you believe otherwise, then it was unintentional on my part,” Ryan intoned. “And you are sorely mistaken.”

They bumped over a pot hole in the road. A sudden chill seemed to have descended over the inside of the vehicle, and Ray rested his hand on his gun for reassurance. He had goaded Ryan, he knew, but he'd been unprepared for just how terrifying the man could be when he got all quiet and cold.

“Why?” Ray asked then. “Why do you need to take Edgar down so badly? What did he ever do to you?”

“Ray,” Ryan said, with patronising patience but a cutting edge to his tone that was immediately unsettling, “You must have learned by this point that asking questions about things that don't concern you will only get you into trouble. People have been killed for less than a secret – and I'm sure you've been the one to take them out before.”

It was a threat that wasn't even thinly veiled, and Ray was smart enough to know when to stop prying. He let out a huff of breath and turned back to the window, watching the grass and livestock roll by.

 

* * *

 

They split up as soon as they reached the entrance to the town; a sleepy, sparsely populated little place. It was going on dusk by now and the streets were quiet as Ray took the car and Ryan slipped out and away with a single, brusque command for Ray to keep his phone on.

He set off.

This was the part of the process he hated the most – part of why he'd been so taken by Gavin's abilities; tracking down targets was tedious and boring and Ray wasn't _bad_ at it, he just didn't _enjoy_ it. Once they found whoever they were looking for – that's when he hit his element, precise marksmanship and on-the-spot strategical thinking taking over to make him one of the most efficient killers in the business.

But for now, he was stuck trawling through the town, checking any of the places that a visitor of Clarence's stead might be; the town hall, the realtor, the post office, anywhere Edgar's little bird might have gone to assess the town's suitability as a location for a hideout or base.

Nothing.

The residents of the town were dull and sleepy-eyed; curious at the presence of a new stranger but very unhelpful, and Ray had been wandering around for a good forty minutes when his phone vibrated with a text from Ryan.

_Got him. Meet me where we came in._

He drove back over, and Ryan motioned for him to park the car and follow him.

Ryan hadn't been joking about his abilities before. The streets of this little country hamlet were wide and open, anyone would be hard pressed to move along them unseen. But Ryan seemed practiced at seeking out almost invisible nooks and crannies, passing from shadowy corner to shadowy corner before he finally reached a fire escape leading up to a flat-roofed building; a warehouse that functioned as a store selling Equestrian goods. It was named, rather creatively, 'Horseland'.

Ray followed Ryan across the roof of this shop, where, it seemed, quite a lot of birds had made nests. On the other side was a car park, where several lorries were parked as well as one large SUV. Ryan pressed a finger to the lips of his mask and motioned for Ray to crouch and look over the edge – down in the parking lot, by the SUV, were Clarence and his bodyguard. Clarence was pacing and speaking loudly into his phone. 

“I'll text the others,” Ray whispered, and did so, letting them know that they'd found their target. He turned back to the scene, hand going to his gun, but Ryan grabbed his wrist.

“Wait. Listen in first. He might mention something that we can bring back for Gavin to use.”

Ray nodded in agreement, settling back on the edge of the roof and straining to hear.

“-is a good spot for us to bring them in,” Clarence was saying. “Not too far from the city, but remote. Quiet. There's a warehouse out here we can store the weapons once they're in.” A pause, as whoever was on the other end of the line continued speaking.

“Yes, they're arriving next week. The pirate's gonna in town, so he'll be checking in too. I'm here now. But listen, some of the others are driving up and they're going to stay here until the weapons arrive, make sure the deal goes down alright and guard them too. I'm meeting them down by the water and then I'll take them to the warehouse.”

Another pause.

“Okay,” Clarence said. “See you then.”

He hung up and turned to his guard, a wide beam splitting his beaky face. “Edgar's pleased. Thinks this is a good place to make the deal, then we'll have our new weapons in.” 

The guard just nodded. Ryan let go of Ray and moved to pull out his own weapon, then paused as a door opened on the other end of the parking lot.

It was a restroom, and from it emerged four rough looking men with guns, who moved to flank Clarence.

Ray turned to Ryan in confusion. “Gavin said he'd only have one security guard,” he hissed. The sound of the birds inhabiting the rooftop, maintaining a constant stream of trilling chatter, was loud enough that he didn't particularly worry about being heard.

It was hard to tell what Ryan was thinking with his face covered, but Ray could tell his shoulders had tensed. “Did you hear Clarence on the phone? It sounds like he's trading for some guns. Guess Edgar wants more of his men here to make sure the deal goes down okay. It sounds like he's about to head out to meet some more of them coming in – we should take him out now before he leaves.”

“There's literally four times as many as we were expecting,” Ray replied. “We should call the others in.”

Ryan shook his head. “It'll take too long. We can handle it.”

It wasn't the first time Ray had been surprised unexpectedly on the job; he hated it when it happened, but it was a fact of life and Murphy's Law that things in this business never quite ran smoothly. So he nodded.

“Take out Clarence first,” he whispered, and Ryan nodded, pulling out his rifle and taking aim.

Unfortunately, this motion sent a nearby bunch of birds fluttering away noisily, and Clarence – a twitchy little fellow himself – glanced up at the commotion, caught sight of the two men aiming guns at him from the rooftop, and let out a loud yell, scurrying for cover as Ryan took the shot. It hit the car instead, shattering the glass, and instantly the five guards were aiming their weapons.

“Shit,” Ryan snapped, ducking back quickly as shots rang out around them. “Clarence is making a run for it, I'll take him out – you deal with these guys here.”

Before Ray could respond Ryan was bounding back, leaping off the roof, and he was forced to take cover behind a raised roof hatch.

Gritting his teeth, he readied his gun. This was nothing he hadn't done before, but he'd always had Michael for back up, reading to throw a grenade – if there was the appropriate space – or otherwise cover his back in order to let him get a clean shot.

Waiting for a break in the enemy fire, he popped out from behind the hatch and took out two of the men on the ground before darting across the roof to instead crouch behind a large statue of a horse that was beside the rooftop sign.

There was silence from down below, but he could hear muffled talking. After a moment he peered cautiously out from behind the statue, only to flinch back when another shot rang out, narrowly missing his head. Remaining calm, he ducked back under cover only to pause as he heard the ringing clang of footsteps on metal.

One of them was climbing the ladder to the roof.

_Shit_ , Ray thought. Thinking fast, he fumbled in his pocket, grabbed the first thing he could find – his phone – and threw it at the birds nesting on the opposite side of the roof. With a series of shrieks they scattered, launching into the air, and he heard the man down below fire his gun in that direction, turning towards the disturbance.

Taking his chance while the guy was distracted, he ducked out from behind the statue and took him out with a single shot to the head.

By this time the last remaining crony had reached the top of the ladder and was already firing, but now that there was no one down below, Ray was free to turn from the edge of the roof and take him out as well. The man went down quickly, obviously little more than hired muscle doing some of Edgar's dirty business from him.

As the gunshots faded away, he took a few deep breaths, checking the clip of his gun before pulling off his glasses and giving them a vigorous polish.

Well. That had gone well, considering.

The sound of sirens started up in the distance. Someone had undoubtedly heard the commotion and called the police.

Ray quickly climbed down off the roof and headed down the road in the direction he thought Ryan had taken, moving quickly – the town was small enough that they'd have to get out fast to avoid being caught.

It wasn't long before he heard another shot in the distance, coming from down a small side street; he made his way there to find Ryan standing over the bodies of Clarence and his bodyguard, searching them quickly.

“I see you dealt with those others then,” Ryan said, straightening up and shoving Clarence's effects into his pocket.

Ray nodded. “Same to you.”

“They ran a good way before I could catch them. Anyway, told you we'd handle it on our own,” Ryan replied. He sounded almost amused. Then he tilted his head. “Shit, are those sirens?”

“Someone called the popo,” Ray muttered. “Come on, we can get back around to the car before they come down this way. They'll probably be checking out the warehouse for a while. With any luck they'll think those guys were the ones having a shootout; no one saw me in particular so we can still get away.” 

“That's a lot to bet on,” Ryan muttered, as he started to turn out of the alley and they began walking back towards the car.

“Yeah, well, this is normally the part where Michael blows something up to cause a distraction,” Ray replied, and felt a sudden pang of annoyance – the stress of what had just happened, maybe, or adrenaline rising back up, but suddenly he was nothing but irritated. “He should have fucking come along. If he didn't insist on being an ass to Gavin all the time we wouldn't even be fighting. I really don't get why he has to be such a dick. Gav's not even that annoying if you don't take him seriously.”

Ryan kept glancing at him and Ray suddenly got the uncomfortable feeling that he knew something he didn't.

“What?” he asked. “Something you want to share?” 

“You really don't realise it, do you?” Ryan asked.

Ray frowned, confused. “Realise what?”

Ryan just shook his head. “I can't fucking believe it.”

“Believe _what_?”

“Nothing,” Ryan replied. “It's none of my business.” 

“Well, it's _my_ business if it's to do with me, so spill it. You know why Michael's acting so weird?” Annoyance was quickly replaced by concern – Ryan had picked up on something being wrong with Gavin, after all. If there was something up with Michael too, something making him behave so strangely, well, Ray needed to know what it was so that he could fix it.

“You really don't see why Michael hates Gavin so much?”

“No! Should I?” 

Ryan actually hesitated then, as though he wasn't sure he should say what he was about to say, and a horrible, vague feeling of dread started up in Ray. Suddenly he felt like he was missing something big, something important – something that would change everything.

“He's jealous,” Ryan said flatly.

Ray stopped walking, but Ryan continued, not even glancing back until Ray skipped to catch up with him.

_What the fuck,_ was his first thought – unable to wrap his head around it.

“Bullshit,” he said aloud, “Why the fuck would Michael be jealous of _Gavin_?”

“Because he _likes_ you, idiot,” Ryan snapped. “Maybe he doesn't realise it himself yet but it's fucking obvious to me. Why do you think he's been so protective of you all of a sudden? And then, of course, in waltzes Gavin and suddenly you two start acting like BFFs – of course Michael would be annoyed. He's confused about his own feelings and-” 

And that was where Ray stopped listening, because this new information crashed over him like a tidal wave and suddenly everything was coming back – Michael sulking in the car on the drive out to the house, worried and pensive and Ray not understanding why – Michael frantic over the earpiece when he thought Ray had been hit by the train – Michael's touch, gently helping Ray with his bandages – that awkward shoulder pat in the kitchen after they took out Thaddeus – all of it suddenly undercut by the strange almost nervousness that Michael had so uncharacteristically adopted over the last few days. 

It all made a horrible, horrible kind of sense, and suddenly Ray felt sick because _okay_ and _what the fuck_ and _how do I even begin to react to this_ – it was like all systems came to a sudden grinding halt.

_He_ likes _you._

_But... but you're just best friends?_

Ryan was watching him intently, waiting for a reaction, but Ray barely noticed him, lost in catatonic thought.

Then Ryan abruptly stopped walking and Ray bumped into his back. Ryan reached out to steady him, but he seemed to have been seized by a sudden panic.

“Oh _shit_ ,” he said, and Ray blinked, jerked out of his thoughts.

“What?” he demanded.

“Fuck, fuck, _fuck_ ,” Ryan said. “Back there – Clarence said more mercs were coming in, some of Edgar's hired guns to help with the weapons deal.”

“Yeah, so? We took out Clarence, he won't be there to meet them-”

“Where'd he say he was gonna meet them though?” Ryan asked. Ray couldn't remember, and stared at him blankly. 

“The water,” Ryan said. “He said he was meeting them by the water and there's only one big body of water around here-”

“ _Fuck_ ,” Ray breathed. “They're going to the fucking lake.”

“Exactly.”

“Where the others are.”

Ryan nodded. He scrabbled in his pockets for his phone and then cursed as he pulled it out. “Damn it. I think I landed on it jumping down from the roof, it's broken. Fucking cheap disposable cell phones. You call them.”

Ray reached for his own phone. And then realised he had thrown it off the roof when he was distracting the birds. “Shit, mine's gone too.”

“Damn it. We need to get back there fast as we can then, or the others will be in for a nasty surprise. He didn't mention when they were coming, did he?” Ryan broke into a jog, Ray moving to keep pace alongside him.

“He didn't, but if he was on his way to meet them they can't be much more than an hour away. Shit, we won't get there in time.”

“Geoff will deal with it,” Ryan said grimly. “But let's move quickly.”

 

* * *

 

 

It had been almost two hours since Ryan and Ray left for the town. They would have arrived by now, were probably looking around – and Gavin sat, hunched over his laptop, waiting for any movements from Clarence that he could use to help out.

He reached out and took a swig of the Red Bull next to him. He had spent the last few months in a state of near constant exhaustion and it had become normal to feel tired, to have a constant sort of dull headache behind the eyes and a vague lethargy wearing down on his limbs.

His phone buzzed suddenly with a text and he jumped, nearly spilling his drink as he hastened to pick it up.

It was Ray – it seemed they'd found Clarence, which meant his role in this job was over.

Smiling, he got up and headed out of the tent where he quickly spied Geoff standing out looking over the water, and jogged over to him.

“Geoff!”

“What's up buddy?” Geoff asked, turning instantly; he'd been skipping stones.

“Ray just called in, they found Clarence,” Gavin said.

“Sweet,” Geoff replied, breaking into a grin. “They'll take him down no problem. That means we're, what, a third of the way done? Nice work Gavvers,” he added, “You tracked both of them down in no time.”

“Yeah, well, I am the best,” Gavin replied, and Geoff snorted loudly, reaching out to ruffle his hair. Gavin ducked away but nearly slipped in the slippery mud near the lakebed. Geoff reached out to steady him, grabbing him around the waist and setting him upright. 

“You're like a fucking deerling, always tripping over your own limbs,” Geoff muttered.

“Baby deer aren't called deerlings, you mong,” Gavin snorted. “They're called _fawns_ , like bloody Mr Tumnus or whatever.”

“Don't call me a mong,” Geoff replied. “You can't call the criminal overlord of Achievement City a _mong_.”

“I will call you what you are, you silly panini.”

 Geoff burst into surprised guffaws. “ _Silly panini_ – what the fuck does that even _mean_? You're fucking stupid.”

 Geoff had a particularly contagious laugh and Gavin couldn't help but break into giggles himself. He bent to pick up one of Geoff's rocks and made an attempt at skipping it that failed epically; it landed with a great splash and sank immediately. 

“Not like that, dumbass,” Geoff said, taking up another stone and demonstrating. “Like this. See? Come here.” He grabbed Gavin's wrist and tugged him towards him, guiding his arm. “You want it to skim the surface of the water.”

For a few moments they continued chucking rocks. Gavin still could not get it to work and he quickly gave up.

Then Geoff spoke up again.

“Hey, I got a question for you.”

“Yep?”

“What job were you working on before you came with us?”

Gavin froze, his whole body tensing as the panic from before rose up again, lapping over him in waves – _why does he want to know? Has Ryan been talking? Why would he suddenly bring that up, oh God what does he know-_

“Gav? Jesus, you look like you just saw a ghost. Are you okay?” Geoff asked with a stern sort of worry, as he grabbed Gavin's shoulders, turning him to face him. 

Gavin shrugged him off and pasted on a practiced smile. “I'm fine, just – why'd you wanna know?”

“I dunno, Ryan was asking earlier and I was wondering.”

“ _Ryan_ was asking?” Gavin demanded, and Geoff nodded, one eyebrow rising.

“Yeah – why? He said you guys were talking last night and he was curious.”

“Right,” Gavin replied. And then forced a laugh. “Well – it's boring really, it was just another job, you know? Like what I'm doing with you. Some guys wanted revenge on a bunch of other people so they hired me to help track them down.” 

“Burnie said something went wrong?”

Gavin's mouth felt suddenly dry, like all the moisture in it had spontaneously evaporated. When he spoke it was like trying to swallow a mouthful of dead moths.

“The – the guys we were tracking down, they were friends with this other big guy and he came after us.” His voice had begun to shake a little and he clenched his fists. _Control yourself. You're fine._ “But we all got out,” he added, and forced another smile.

A moment of silence as Geoff watched him carefully. 

“We all got out,” Gavin repeated, almost to himself.

Geoff was looking at him with something approaching concern, and Gavin glanced away.

“I hope Ryan gets back soon,” he said, trying to change the subject. 

“Ah yes, Ryan who is now apparently your personal bodyguard,” Geoff teased.

Gavin half-heartedly scowled at him. “Shut up. You were the one who promised I wouldn't have to come out here.”

“I know, I'm sorry,” Geoff said, not sounding apologetic in the slightest. “Hey, that's an idea – come over to my tent and I'm gonna show you how to use a gun.” 

Gavin shook his head instantly. “Nahh, that's not necessary.”

“It is the best idea I've ever had,” Geoff informed him, and grabbed his arm, trying to pull him along. Gavin dug his heels in. “Come on, man, then you won't be as scared and defenceless as you are now, you big baby.”

“No, Geoff, I fight with _information_ ,” Gavin protested.

“Will information protect you from _this_?” Geoff asked, and punched him in the shoulder. Gavin yelped, though it didn't really hurt all that much, but the surprise was enough for Geoff to haul him away from the lake and towards his tent. “At least let me teach you how to stab someone, c'mon.”

“Noo, a friend of mine tried to teach me guns and stuff once and I was rubbish at it,” Gavin said. “I don't want to stab people. If their guts came out I'd throw up.” 

Geoff burst into laughter again. “Their guts wouldn't _come out_ ,” he howled. “Now who's the silly panini-”

“Geoff,” Jack called out, approaching from the tents. Geoff was still in fits of laughter, but when Gavin turned towards Jack he noticed very quickly that the other man was not happy to find his boyfriend hanging out with Gavin – especially since he still had his arms wrapped around him trying to pull him over to the campsite.

Gavin attempted a smile at Jack, but it faded quickly when the other man glared at him. He deflated a little; he was very used to people finding him annoying, even actively disliking him, but that didn't mean it didn't suck. 

“'sup Jack,” Geoff replied, letting go of Gavin in favour of waving at his boyfriend. “Hey, you should help me out, I'm about to teach Gavin some self defence.”

Jack looked mightily unimpressed by this. “Before you do that,” he said, ignoring Geoff's offer, “Kdin just called and he wants to talk to you, you should probably call him back.” 

“Oh, not fucking Felix again,” Geoff groaned, already moving off towards his tent.

Jack shook his head. “Nah, I think he just wants to run some things by you, it's nothing too big.”

Gavin was left standing alone as the two of them walked off. He shivered as a cold wind blew down his spine. It was already beginning to move into evening. The day had gone by quicker than he'd realised, and suddenly, as he noticed it was starting to get dark, he began to feel very exposed standing out here alone. 

Glancing about, he caught sight of Michael walking off into the trees, and ran after him.

“Michael! Michael! Where are you going?”

Michael glanced around, saw him approaching, and adopted a look of the utmost horror.

“Fucking hell, don't come with me,” he groaned.

Too late. Gavin had already skidded to a halt next to him.

“Where are you going?” he asked, glad to at least have someone else around. Truth be told, Ryan leaving had made him nervous. It had been fine with Geoff, but now Geoff was off in his tent and the lakeside suddenly seemed very empty and ominous with no one around.

“Where the fuck do you think I'm going,” Michael snapped, folding his arms. “I'm going to take a shit in the woods.”

“I haven't taken a dump out here yet,” Gavin informed him. “I'm holding it in 'till we get back.”

“That is fucking _lovely_ Gavin, now can I have some fucking _privacy_?”

“Nahh, I'll come along and guard you.”

“Like fuck you will,” Michael snapped.

“Can't I just come with you until Geoff finishes whatever he's doing?” Gavin asked. He played up the whining, despite knowing it would annoy Michael – he'd rather come off as pathetic if it meant covering up the fact that standing alone out here was starting to make him genuinely nervous. It was one thing to be teased about being so skittish, another entirely for people to start to realise that he had his reasons for being so jumpy and afraid.

Though truth be told, Michael's earlier accusations of his cowardice had gotten to him a little. He could see why the other man felt that way – with his demanding precautions and special measures all the time – but it _wasn't_ that he cared about his life more than theirs, it wasn't, it wasn't that at all – he just couldn't trust them, just needed to know he'd be safe and that it wouldn't happen all over again –

But telling them that would mean telling them _everything_ , about Dan and Barry and what had happened on the last job.

And that was not about to happen, thank you very bloody much.

“Jesus Christ, you are an _infant_ ,” Michael sighed, glaring at the sky and rubbing his temples. “ _Fine_ , we'll do a perimeter check before I do my business. Come on.”

“Really?” Truth be told he was a little surprised Michael had agreed, he'd expected otherwise given that the man had made his dislike for him markedly clear. “Awesome. Let's go.”

The sun set quickly this time of year and as they progressed further into the woods it quickly grew darker and darker; not enough for them to be unable to see, but enough to make Gavin a little uncomfortable.

Michael, unfortunately, quickly picked up on his nervousness and exploited it mercilessly.

“Shh, Gavin,” he whispered, “Don't walk so loudly.”

“Why?”

“Because something might hear us.”

“Something? What's something, Michael?”

“I don't know, something scary, you never know what's out here dude.” He glanced about theatrically. “When the sun goes down anything could come out.”

Gavin started to laugh off his unease but Michael shushed him again.

“I mean it, man, these country towns can be fucking weird. All ghosts and shit out here. Just imagine if we looked behind us and _saw_ _something_.”

“ _Mi_ chael, stop,” Gavin whined. “Quit messin' about, there's nothing there.” 

“We _think_ there's nothing there. Look around and make sure.”

“I don't want to look around.”

“Why not?"

“Just in case I see something horrid.”

“Exactly.” Michael broke into devious chortles and Gavin half-heartedly glared at him. He spooked easily at the best of times but nowadays more than ever it didn't take much to unsettle him.

“Ooooh,” Michael began intoning in a low voice as they continued on. “Ooooooh – what was that?” He suddenly snapped to attention and Gavin glared at him.

“Stop it, Michael-”

“Shut up.” There was no teasing in Michael's tone now, and Gavin's mouth snapped shut as he fell silent. All was quiet save for their breathing. His heart began to beat faster, faster, too fast – the wind was rustling the leaves about them and he couldn't hear anything, he couldn't-

There! A rattle of cans on wire.

“Someone's at the fence,” Michael whispered.

Gavin's eyes widened.

And that's when they heard voices, muffled in the distance, then the heavy thud of boots – and then a pair of headlights turned on, bright beams of light filtering through the foliage around them.

“Fuck,” Michael hissed. “Get down, get down, get down!”

Gavin froze, unable to move. A great cold had come over him and his limbs felt frozen and-

_Not again, not again-_

With a grunt of frustration Michael grabbed his arm and roughly pulled him back, dragging him into a nearby copse of bushes.

“Stay down,” he ordered. He shoved Gavin to the ground, pushing him down flat, and then, after a moment's thought, he yanked Gavin's hood up over his hair. In the dark the black fabric would help conceal him; it was better than nothing, in any case. 

Gavin realised, with a detached sort of awareness, that he was breathing too fast, on the verge of hyperventilating. Michael seemed to notice at the same time; he leaned across and clapped a hand over Gavin's mouth, crouching over him and making sure they were both hidden behind the bushes.

“Do not make a sound,” he whispered, so close Gavin could feel his breath against his ear. “You get it? Not a fucking noise.” 

Gavin nodded, jerkily. Michael took his hand from his mouth and put it on his back instead, holding him down as they both stayed stock-still.

 The footsteps and voices grew louder, beams of torchlight visible through the leaves as the men entered the forest.


	5. Chapter 5

“Okay. Yeah, I don't know how long I'll be gone for. Not too much longer I hope. Need to take down this dickhead though or he'll just keep causing problems for us. Alright, bye Kdin.”

Geoff sighed as he hung up, throwing his phone down as he ran his hands through his hair.

Jack, sitting on the other side of the tent, watched him in concern. “Everything alright back at Achievement City?”

“Yeah, but Kdin doesn't like me being gone this long,” Geoff replied. “Can't blame him.”

The thing was, a lot went into running a criminal empire. You couldn't just run off without warning, there was shit to get done – whether it was ordering and maintaining weapon and ammunition supplies, taking care of your allies, taking care of your _enemies_ , pulling heists – a ton of stuff that Geoff was not at all happy to have to up and leave in order to deal with this Edgar business.

And, to be honest, he had a constant nagging fear that Edgar would take advantage of his absence to do something drastic. So far he hadn't, but it was only a matter of time. Hopefully, their continuing to take down his network would cripple him enough to make it hard for him to pull anything big.

“At the rate Gav's finding these people, though, we should be fine,” Geoff continued, and forced a smile.

Jack didn't look impressed, and Geoff wasn't blind. He'd noticed his boyfriend's reactions to everyone they were working with.

“Oh, come on, Jack, you still don't trust him?”

Jack frowned. “He's somewhat capable, I'll give him that, but I keep feeling like he's going to do something to mess everything up, the same way he did with Thaddeus. He might be smart at what he does, but he's not _reliable_.”

“I think he's fine,” Geoff declared, “and you're making a big fuss over nothing.”

“And I think you're biased,” Jack shot back, sounding more genuinely annoyed than Geoff was comfortable with.

Geoff turned to him, surprised and a bit confused. “Why would I be biased?”

“Because you like him,” Jack said, voice quiet and intent. “I don't know, because you find him entertaining or funny or, or _cute_. It's stopping you seeing what a moron he can be. Same as Ray,” he added, tagging it on quickly like it would somehow stop Geoff realising what else he had said.

“What the fuck are you talking about,” Geoff snapped. “You think I find him- Jesus Christ, Jack, you're not _jealous_ are you? Because it's bad enough with fucking Michael-”

“I'm not _jealous_ ,” Jack growled. He got to his feet, crossed his arms. “I'm just _saying_. You're too soft on him.”

“I'm not _soft_ ,” Geoff replied, tersely. “Trust me. He fucks up big time and I'll come down on him like a ton of bricks. But he _hasn't_ , so I haven't, so I don't know what the big fuss is.”

He didn't want to fight – had had more than enough of that these past few days – so he turned away quickly before Jack could reply, pulling open the tent flaps and looking out.

“ _Gavin_?” he called, looking about – the campsite seemed empty. He stepped out of the tent and glanced around. “Hey Gav, where'd you go – Michael?”

“Michael went for a walk I think,” Jack said, coming up over his shoulder. He still sounded annoyed, but he didn't seem about to start another argument, and Geoff glanced at him.

“Did Gavin go with him? I don't think he'd-”

He broke off as a sound caught his attention. The revving of an engine, footfalls and voices – it was getting dark, and when he turned towards the nearby forestry he thought he caught a flash of light between the trees.

Geoff froze, reaching out to grab Jack's arm. Jack glanced at him in confusion, and Geoff jerked his head towards the woods.

“Did you hear that?” he asked.

Jack felt silent, focusing intently.

It came again. There was definitely someone there – several someones, by the sound of it. Someone was driving up the road to the lake, but several other people were already in the trees. This wasn't a family of campers or a park ranger – there were a _lot_ of them, and more and more lights were coming on.

“Fuck, fuck, get back in the tent,” Jack hissed, shoving at Geoff until he moved back inside.

They quickly turned out the lantern that had been burning, everything falling into darkness. It was dusk by now, only the faintest twilight lighting up the area. Geoff reached for his gun, made sure it was at his belt before he grabbed his phone.

“Ray and Ryan haven't checked in,” he whispered. “I thought they'd be done by now.”

“Maybe something went wrong,” Jack replied, worry lacing his tone.

Geoff grimaced. “Who the fuck are these people?” he muttered. He peered out of the tent again. Even more lights were appearing in the forest, and they were getting closer. He crawled back inside. “Damn it, I'm pretty sure this is bad. Even if it's not Edgar...”

They were alone, and outnumbered, and there were any number of people in these parts who would jump at the chance to take him down.

“What's the plan?” Jack asked.

“Well, it would be really fucking helpful if we knew where Michael and Gavin had got off to,” Geoff muttered.

“We might just have to trust they'll be fine and make a break for it,” Jack replied. “We're too exposed here. Let's get to one of the vehicles and drive out a ways, wait it out and see what happens.”

Geoff hesitated. Michael would be fine – probably – he could at least take care of himself. But Gavin – wherever he'd wandered off to, Geoff didn't like the thought of leaving him on his own out there. But there was little else he could do, except hope that he and Michael were together, wherever they were. In the mean time, he and Jack were sitting ducks here. They had to move.

“Okay,” he said. “Let's get to the car-”

“ _Hey, there's someone out here_ ,” a voice called from outside, and they both froze, crouching down and remaining as still and quiet as possible.

“What do you mean?” another voice replied.

“There's, like, tents and cars and shit, someone's already here.”

“Is it Clarence?"

 _Shit,_ Geoff thought, exchanging glances with Jack. So Clarence had been planning to meet what sounded like a bunch of mercenaries by the lake. The fact that he hadn't shown up meant that Ray and Ryan must have at least slowed him down if not killed him.

“No, there's too many tents.” The clang of metal on metal, like someone hitting or kicking at the support poles of one of the other tents.

“Who the fuck is it then?”

Jack grabbed Geoff's arm. ' _Out the back_ ,' he mouthed, and Geoff nodded.

They crawled through the back flap of the tent. The campsite was awash now with light from the headlights of several vehicles and the torches of the people who had arrived. Peering out from behind the tent, Geoff did a quick headcount – at least two dozen men and women, armed to the teeth.

If he hadn't already known they were Edgar's cronies, this would have solidified it – everyone had their signatures, and Edgar's, it seemed, was farmyard animals. What appeared to be the leader of the band – a tall figure who he could not tell the gender of – wore quite possibly the most terrifying duck-head mask Geoff had ever seen, all bulging eyes and gaping beak.

He was pretty sure ducks weren't supposed to have teeth. Fucking anatomically incorrect on top of everything else.

There were far too many for them to take out, and it wouldn't be long before they were spotted. The people were already beginning to search the camp roughly.

“Hey, there's a bunch of tech stuff in here,” one of the men hollered out, having, it seemed, found Gavin and Ryan's tent.

“No one brings fucking computers on a camping trip,” another replied. It was hard to tell from this distance, but Geoff thought it was the duck. The duck certainly seemed to be in charge. “Not unless...” they trailed off. “Not unless you're out here looking for something.”

“Fuck. Do you think it's Ramsey?” the man replied.

Jack poked Geoff's arm and jerked his head towards the forest. They couldn't cross the camp to get to the vehicles, but they _could_ make a break for the trees.

Geoff nodded. ' _Go'_ , he mouthed, and they ran for it, half crouching over, moving as quietly as possible-

But not quietly enough.

One of the group caught the flash of movement, and shouted, drawing the attention of the others.

“There! Get them!”

Shots rang out and Geoff swore. They had reached the tree line and crashed through shrubbery and prickly undergrowth. One thing that movies always got wrong was that it was fucking _hard_ to run in woodland; there were sticks and rocks and uneven ground and shit tripping you up at every turn. It was also dark in here, any semblance of moonlight blocked out by the trees.

“Geoff,” Jack said, steering him right, away from the road. “Come on, our best bet is to stop and hide.”

He could still hear gunshots behind them, feet too – they were definitely being pursued.

They jogged a little while longer, pulling away from their assailants until the sounds faded a little and the lights in the trees behind them weren't quite close enough for concern.

Geoff ducked behind a large tree, tugging Jack with him, and paused to catch his breath and check the clip of his gun.

Jack was panting heavily, and when they glanced at each other, Geoff couldn't help but grin, wide and a little manic. Jack rolled his eyes, but smiled back – yes, they were in a spot of danger, but it was exhilarating as shit and brought him back to the missions they'd been on when they'd first broken away and tried to make it on their own, just the two of them – messy and full of close calls and lots of running in the dark, just like now.

“We could climb a tree,” Geoff whispered.

Jack shoved him, scoffing out a laugh. “You're mad if you can see me trying to get up one of these things.”

“Just a suggestion,” Geoff replied. He glanced out from behind the tree again. “They coming after us yet?”

“Looks like they've split up to search,” Jack said. “We should stay on the move.”

“We need to try find Michael and Gavin.”

“They could be anywhere. What we _need_ to do is hole up or get out of here.”

“Fine.”

Opting for stealth rather than speed now, they continued through the forest. Geoff had a vague idea where he was going – following the road back around to the highway – but it wasn't long before they heard footsteps and voices very close to them.

“Shit, hide,” he hissed, but too late – a man and a woman emerged from the bushes, caught sight of them and began firing.

Geoff dived sideways, rolling against ground that was sharp and painful with pine cones and rocks. He was already lifting his gun to fire, taking out several shrubs before he managed to get a lock on the man. He dropped like a stone, and Geoff didn't have to look to know that Jack was covering him as he straightened up to bring down the female mercenary.

Barely had she fallen than Jack yelled, “ _Geoff_!” and dived at him, knocking him to the ground as a shot rang out overhead.

Geoff landed heavily on the ground, winded as Jack landed right on top of him, knocking the breath out of him. For a moment he gasped, dazed, dimly aware that another one of Edgar's men had crept up on them and was approaching-

Then another gunshot rang out, and the man crumpled to the floor.

“You okay?” Jack asked, sitting up. Geoff nodded, hunching over and rubbing his ribs for a moment as he struggled to get his breath back.

“Who shot that guy?” he demanded – it hadn't been Jack, he'd been down for the count as well.

Jack twisted around, just in time to see Ray and Ryan emerge from the trees. Geoff huffed out a laugh.

“Never been so glad to see two people in my life,” he said. “Why the fuck didn't you call us, tell us where you were at?”

“We both lost our phones,” Ray replied. He moved over to Geoff's side and offered him a hand up, pulling him to his feet and steadying him.

Ryan made a deep, low noise of disapproval. “Turns out Clarence was arranging a meeting by the lake,” he explained. “Edgar was sending some people up to guard some weapons deal. We couldn't call to warn you but by the time we got back down here we saw the campsite had been overrun and everyone was fucking around in the forest.”

“There's too many of them for us to take out,” Jack said. “I think we'll have to skip out on them.”

“How many?” Ryan demanded. “If we can get rid of some of Edgar's men, we should-”

“Where's Michael?” Ray cut in suddenly, glancing around.

“Um,” Geoff said.

Ray rounded on him. “What the hell does _um_ mean?” He sounded genuinely stressed for the first time Geoff had ever heard him. “Where the fuck is he?”

Ryan seemed to notice the absence of two of their crew at the same time.

“Where's Gavin?” he asked.

“Calm down,” Jack said. “They weren't at the camp when Edgar's guys attacked. We don't know where they are. Probably somewhere here in the forest.”

Ray flung his hands up. “Oh, nothing to fucking worry about then, they're just somewhere in here with _all the guys with guns_.”

“Calm your tits,” Geoff said, though he was starting to feel a little uneasy as well. “Michael will be fine. He's a big boy, he can take care of himself.”

“It's not Michael I'm worried about,” Ryan said grimly.

Ray shot him a glance. “Either way, we need to find them,” he said.

Geoff nodded. “Now there's four of us we can try to stay on the move and make sure we don't get outnumbered. We'll move quietly and search thoroughly.”

Ray nodded, but Geoff fancied that Jack and Ryan didn't look entirely happy. Though Ryan didn't argue, he seemed hesitant, as though he'd rather go on a killing rampage and try take down as many of Edgar's cronies as possible rather than go looking for Michael and Gavin. And Jack – he didn't argue either, but Geoff knew he'd prefer to be careful about it. Would rather find a way out of the forest and sit tight instead of heading blindly off on a rescue mission when they had no idea where the other two even were.

But as it was, he was in charge, and when he started walking, they all followed him.

 

* * *

 

 

Gavin was actually going to throw up.

His heart was pounding so fast that it _hurt,_ his breath coming in quick, ragged gasps that he struggled to stifle. _Stay quiet, stay quiet, stay quiet_ , he told himself – but it was hard when every second he spent crouched behind the bushes was bringing him back to that terrible night, going on six months ago now. Things had gone to shit then, as well – Barry's men had found them and everyone had split and Gavin – Gavin had been alone, then, alone and abandoned by the people he was meant to be working with –

But he wasn't alone now. Michael's hand was warm on his back, pressing insistently to keep him down and hidden, and as they watched, the people with guns trooped by, deeper into the forest, drawing away and taking their light and noise with them until the forest was quiet and still once more.

Michael sat back, letting out a huff of breath. Gavin collapsed, bonelessly, feeling the tension drain from his body in a rush as he let himself have a moment to just _shake_ before he pulled himself together and sat up.

' _Are they gone?_ ' he mouthed, and Michael nodded.

“Yeah,” he whispered. “Looks like it.” He peered up from behind the bushes and nodded again. “Yep, they headed off down the road. Shit, who _are_ they? They're definitely headed for the campsite.”

Gavin bit his lip. “Edgar's people?”

“Who the fuck knows.” Michael rose, abruptly, and Gavin startled at the sudden movement before scrambling to his feet as well. Before he could move, though, Michael grabbed his shoulder and shoved him back down.

“Stay there,” Michael ordered. “I need to follow them to the lake, see what's going on with Geoff and Jack.”

Panic rose like nausea in Gavin's throat.

“You can't leave me here.” His voice came out small and weak, and Michael glared at him.

“Yes I fucking _can_. Jesus, Gavin, it's _safer_ here, isn't that what you wanted? Sit the fuck down and wait for me to get back, and whatever you do don't go running off or making noise.” He turned to leave and Gavin jumped up again, seized his arm and spun him back around roughly.

“No, I'm going with you-”

“ _Gavin_!” Michael snapped. “Get your fucking hands off me.” He grabbed Gavin's wrists and pushed him back a few steps. “You're not fucking coming, okay?! You'll slow me down; you're noisy and clumsy and you can't fucking take care of yourself. This forest is full of people with guns and you're _useless_ to me right now, okay?! The most helpful thing you can do right now is just sit here and not move-”

“ _Michael please don't leave me alone here._ ”

The words burst out like they were being torn from his throat, loud and high and _desperate_ , and the next thing he knew Michael had him in a headlock, one hand clamped over his mouth, pressing so hard he had to struggle to breathe.

“Shut. The fuck. Up,” Michael hissed in his ear. “They're gonna fucking hear us if you keep shouting like that.”

Gavin pulled weakly at his arm, but his hands were shaking and his heart hurt again and all he could do was try to breathe, _in, out, in out_ – and bloody fucking hell he was actually going to have – have a panic attack, or something, because everything he'd been trying to squash down for months was rising back up and he just. Needed to not be _left_.

To his credit, Michael seemed to realise pretty quickly that something was very, very wrong. He let go of Gavin and took a few steps back, raising his hands.

“Okay. Okay, just calm the fuck down, Gavin, okay? We're not... we're gonna be fine.” The words came out somewhat awkwardly, like reassurance wasn't something that sat comfortably in his mouth. “Don't freak out. Fine, you can come with me, okay? Just – just stay fucking _quiet_ , will you? Gavin?”

Gavin turned away from him. He clasped his hands together, tightly so that they would stop trembling, and hunched over a little, trying to control his breathing. He focused on where he was, the forest, the crunch of drying dead leaves under his shoes, the faint smell of rain hanging in the air. The _here_ and the _now_ and the thudding of his heart letting him know that he was still alive.

It worked – his breathing slowed and he could force himself into motion, turning to Michael and giving a sharp, jerking nod. Something between worry and confusion flashed across the other man's face, so quickly Gavin wasn't even sure he'd seen it in the dark.

“Okay then,” Michael said. “Stay close and don't talk.”

“Thanks Michael,” he said quietly, and Michael flapped a hand at him.

“Don't make me regret letting you come along,” he hissed.

They set off, making sure to trail some distance behind the people. When they were a little way from the lake, however, gunshots and shouting started up, and Michael dodged back behind a nearby tree, Gavin hurrying after him.

“Fuck,” Michael hissed. “Fuck, fuck, they must be after Jack and Geoff.”

“You think they're dead?” Gavin began, but Michael was already shaking his head.

“Dude, no, it takes more than a bunch of guys with guns to take down Geoff or he'd've been dead a long time ago. But we need to find them.” He peered out from behind the tree again. “Shit, it sounds like they're all heading back into the forest. They must be in here somewhere.”

There was a pause in which Michael thought very hard and Gavin shifted from foot to foot nervously. The lights were coming back towards them now, it seemed, and it wouldn't be long before they started searching the forest in earnest.

“Shit, okay, let's climb this tree,” Michael said. “It'll be too hard running around here trying to hide on foot.”

Gavin nodded. He liked this plan. When it came to most physical activities his skills were somewhat lacking; he wasn't exactly coordinated or particularly strong. But climbing – climbing was something he could do.

It was a good tree – lots of low hanging branches and a wide, rough trunk that he pulled himself up with ease, swinging deftly into some of the higher branches before he reached down to help Michael up. The other man waved him off at first, but after slipping a couple of times he grudgingly gave in and let Gavin grab his hand and haul him up.

Barely were they settled on the branches than the noise in the forest got louder. Whatever was going on, it seemed they were definitely hunting for someone – most likely Geoff and Jack – and soon there were people moving past below, beams of torchlight sweeping across the ground.

They came and went, Gavin holding his breath every time, pressing back against the trunk of the tree as far as he could and hoping none of them thought to look up. He couldn't tell what Michael was thinking; the other man was settled on the boughs a little way below him and all he could see was the top of his head.

They must have waited there for at least twenty minutes, people coming and going down below. It had been silent for a little while when Michael twisted around and looked up at Gavin.

“It looks like they've moved on,” he began. “I'm thinking we climb down and start-”

He broke off as there came the snap of twigs underfoot from down below.

Three more men emerged from the shrubbery, and stopped right underneath the tree.

“They're fuckin' around here somewhere,” one of them growled. “They just took down two of ours. Edgar's gonna be shittin' when he hears about this.”

“Not to mention they must have got Clarence,” another grunted. “There's been no word from him.”

“Fuck,” the third – and seemingly the most aggressive – snapped. He kicked the tree, and Gavin flinched. “Come out, you bitches, we're gonna find you anyways!” he hollered, and promptly fired his gun randomly at the sky.

This would not have caused a problem, were it not for the fact that the loud shot startled something in the tree just behind Gavin. With a wild screech, some sort of animal – a bird? Bat? He couldn't tell in the dark – flapped its way past his head and took off into the night sky. It gave him such a tremendous shock that he couldn't help letting out a yell, slipping sideways on the branch and flailing desperately to avoid falling.

It was too late; he'd lost his grip and he crashed through the branches to land heavily on the ground. Michael, who had instinctively grabbed for him, lost his balance as well and came toppling down to land next to him.

For a moment they lay, stunned and winded, as the three men stared down at them in shock.

Michael came to his senses first.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he cried, and pulled his gun, already scrambling upright. “Gavin, run!”

Gavin had no time to think. He just set off, tripping over his own feet as he stumbled into the bushland, already hearing shots ring out behind him. _Bloody hell bloody hell Michael is going to die_ , he thought, and half-turned to look back over his shoulder and see if the other was okay.

Big mistake.

Not looking where was going, his foot caught in a root, and he hit the ground _hard_ , banging his elbow and his knee and knocking the breath out of himself. Gasping, he heard the thud of footsteps behind him and rolled over to see one of the three men advancing, gun raised. Desperately scrambling backwards, Gavin flung his hands up as though they'd afford him some semblance of protection –

Bang!

The man's gun fired off to the side, then dropped to the ground as Michael tackled him from behind, elbow hooking around his throat as he struggled to pull him down.

“Gavin, for the love of fucking God _pass me that gun_ ,” Michael snarled, viciously tightening his grip as the man coughed and wheezed, dropping to his knees.

Gavin froze, and Michael swung his head around to glare at him.

“ _Gavin_!”

Rousing himself to action, he scrambled forward and snatched up the gun, shoving it into Michael's outstretched hand. Instantly Michael put it to the man's head and fired, and he crumpled neatly to the ground.

Silence fell, both of them panting heavily.

Michael checked the clip of the gun before throwing it down in disgust.

“Fucking fantastic," he said. “I took out those other two but ran out of bullets. This one's empty too.”

Gavin looked at the body on the ground for about two seconds before his stomach rebelled, the sight combined with recent stress sending his gut lurching. He turned and retched into the bushes. Not much came up and he just felt even sicker by the time he was finished, coughing and gasping with his hands braced against his knees.

“You done?” Michael asked after a second. He sounded impatient, but there was again that odd undercurrent of something almost resembling concern.

Gavin turned, wiping his mouth, but before he could say anything there was a rustle in the bushes nearby. He backed up, Michael instinctively moving closer to him, but it was Geoff who burst from the bushes, holding up his cell phone light as a makeshift torch. He gaped at them for a moment, then grinned widely.

“Oh, thank God, there you guys are, we've been looking for fucking _ages_!”

Jack, Ray, and Ryan quickly followed, Ray shoving his way past the others to stand in front of them. For a moment he stared at Michael with naked relief in his expression, half-reaching out to him. Michael started to step forward, but then the oddest look crossed Ray's face and he turned away very abruptly, moving over to clap Gavin on the shoulder instead and pull him into a hug.

“Hey, man, glad you're okay,” Ray said, speaking just a little too quickly to sound normal. “You too, Michael – knew you'd be fine.”

Gavin glanced at Michael, who looked stricken for a moment before his expression shuttered down into something blank and grim.

“Course I was fine,” he sneered, folding his arms. “It was fucking Clumsy McGee over there who nearly got us both _killed_.”

“Alright, Vav?” Ray asked. “You're shaking like fuck.”

“I'm fine,” Gavin replied. It was true – the fact that they were all _here_ – that the others had come looking, had come to find them and save them – he felt dizzy with relief, and a lot less anxious than he'd been earlier.

Michael was still scowling at he and Ray, and Gavin blinked, a bit confused – but before anything else could happen, Geoff clapped his hands together.

“Okay, now we're all together let's get the fuck out of dodge. We've taken down, what, a quarter of them? There's still a fuckton of people running around here with guns. Not to mention that damn duck.”

“Duck?” Gavin asked.

Geoff shook his head. “Tell you later. Let's go.”

“Wait,” Ryan cut in. “These are Edgar's cronies. Kill them now and we'll set him back a few paces.”

“Jesus, Ryan, we barely got out of this balls intact,” Jack snapped. “You can't seriously want to-”

“I don't work for you,” Ryan said coldly.

Gavin couldn't help but frown a little. Ryan had not been this aloof, this intimidating yesterday. He hadn't spoken to him all day, admittedly – not since... not since he _saw_ , back in the tent. Now he was acting all cold and strange, more like the terrifying mercenary that Gavin had expected when they first met. It was off-putting, and he felt strangely hurt, wondering if he had something to do with it.

“I don't take orders from you,” Ryan continued. “And you lot can go and do whatever you want, but I'm going on the hunt. I've killed more people in more dangerous conditions than these.”

“I'll come with you,” Michael spoke up. “I feel like slotting a few. Just get me a gun and I'm set.”

“Michael,” Ray started, but Michael ignored him.

“Suit yourself,” Geoff replied. “But I'm getting out of here. We'll circle back around and get to a vehicle, meet you out at the first highway exit. If you're not back by twelve we're going back to the house without you.”

“It won't take that long,” Ryan said, grimly, pulling a second gun from his belt and handing it to Michael.

Ray looked torn between getting out of there and going with Michael, but after a moment he turned to follow Geoff. Gavin glanced at Michael and saw that same hurt look cross his face before he left with Ryan.

“You don't want to go with him?” he whispered to Ray.

Ray hesitated, then shook his head. “Nah. He'll be fine,” he said.

There was still something odd about his voice – but Gavin barely knew these people, had been rather confused about what was going on the last few days between them, and so he shook it off, and turned away to follow Geoff into the dark.

 

* * *

 

It was half past eleven when Michael and Ryan finally returned to join them where they were waiting in the cars. The camp site had been abandoned when they got back there to get the vehicles, and Gavin had managed to salvage most of his tech, to his great relief. That shit was expensive and some of it very hard to get.

“All done?” Geoff asked, glancing at the forest in the rear view mirror as though he expected to see armed men emerging at any moment.

Ryan nodded. There was blood splattered across the front of his mask, staining his jacket dark. “Took out most of them, actually, and when the rest realised they were being picked off a lot of them fled.”

“You get the duck?"

“No.”

“Hm. Well then. Gavin's picked up his stuff so let's get back to the house, and make sure no one follows us there.”

Ryan nodded, turning to get into his own car with Michael. Jack and Ray were in another vehicle, Geoff and Gavin in the third. Gavin, sitting in the passenger seat, drew his knees up, wrapping his arms around them as Geoff put the car in gear and started to drive.

Geoff glanced at him. “Alright, kiddo?”

“M'fine.” It came out shaky, but he forced a smile, and after a moment Geoff grinned back.

“Sorry, I know that had to be tense as shit for you. Didn't really expect we'd get attacked out there. I guess you were right about needing your special precautions. Still, Michael took care of you.”

“Yeah,” Gavin said, quietly, and leaned his head against the cool glass of the window. “I guess he well did, didn't he.”

He felt a sudden surge of warmth for Michael – for not abandoning him, that first time in the woods, or after he fell from the tree – he'd honestly half expected him to just leave him there.

But he hadn't.

Maybe the circle of people he could trust was a little bigger than he'd expected-

 _No. Don't get ahead of yourself, Gavin_ , he chastised himself. _You're still useful to them. That's why they care so much. Once this is over – once this job is over, if Edgar comes after you, or... or anyone else. Then you'll see whether you're just a tool, something to be used and discarded once you become expendable._

Still. He wanted to thank Michael, so when they reached the house with no further dramas and without being followed, he hung around to wait for the other.

There wasn't much debriefing to do. They'd taken down Clarence, and it was late – better to rest now and get sorted in the morning. Ryan instantly bagged first watch and went out to sit on the porch, Jack volunteering for second before retreating to bed with Geoff.

This left the three youngest sitting awkwardly in the living room.

“Are you going to bed, Ray?” Gavin asked quietly, and Ray nodded.

“Yeah, I'm beat. I'll see you tomorrow, alright?”

“Okay,” Gavin replied.

Ray darted a glance at Michael, but the other man wasn't looking – was occupied in taking apart his gun – and he left quickly after that.

Michael still didn't look up, and Gavin felt suddenly very nervous as he sat perched on the arm of the couch, trying to muster up something to say. Michael had been quiet since he returned with Ryan – quiet and _annoyed_. Gavin hadn't known him long but the other's short temper had become quickly apparent, and it was very obvious right now that there was something eating at him.

Had Gavin any sense of timing, he would have waited for a more opportune moment.

But, as it was, he did _not_ have any sense of timing, so he rather unwisely walked up to Michael and hovered at his shoulder.

“What?” Michael barked out after a bit. “You fucking need something?”

“No,” Gavin replied. “I – kinda just wanted to say thanks. For helping me back there and not leaving me-”

“Put a fucking sock in it, Free, I didn't do it for _you_ ,” Michael snapped.

Gavin blinked, startled and a bit hurt. “I-”

“We fucking need you, that's the only reason. Plus _Ray_ seems to have taken a shine to you.” Michael laughed, bitterly. “If it hadn't been for that, well, I'd have left your ass. So you can take your precious gratitude elsewhere.”

Gavin gaped at him. It took a lot to make him properly angry – but irritated and hurt, that was another thing, and Michael was pushing a lot of buttons without even realising it.

“Wow, okay,” he said. And then added, “asshole.”

Michael jumped up suddenly enough that Gavin flinched back.

“Fuck you, Gavin,” he hissed. “You're a grown ass man, so grow some balls and learn to take care of yourself because one day there's not gonna be anyone around to do it for you-”

Gavin stared at him in horror, the words striking at all his worst fears.

“Whatever, you Jersey bitch,” he cried, this being, in the heat of the moment, the worst insult he could think of. And then he reached out and pushed at Michael, intending to get past him to the stairs.

The next thing he knew, Michael was retaliating with a violent shove to his chest that sent him stumbling back. He knocked the small of his back into the corner of the table, hard enough to send a burst of pain through his spine, before he fell flat on his ass.

Michael snatched up his gun from the table, and for a moment Gavin was struck with the hysterical, paranoid thought, _fuck I've pushed him to his limit he's going to bloody murder me –_ but he just strode by, marching off to his room and leaving Gavin sitting sprawled on the floor.

After a moment he stood up, then gasped and rubbed at his back – there was already a bruise from where he'd fallen out of the tree and that had only made it worse. He started for the basement, then turned back towards the kitchen, instead.

Alcohol. He needed a lot of alcohol. He could already tell that the events of this evening would trigger the worst nightmares he'd ever had – getting blackout drunk was probably the only way to avoid waking up screaming.

 

* * *

 

 

Geoff woke in a panic, his heart slamming in his chest, stomach lurching. He couldn't remember what he'd been dreaming about, except that it had been bad and probably involved Edgar.

“Geoff?” Jack was by his side in an instant, hand warm on his shoulder and rubbing in soothing circles. “Shh, you alright?”

Geoff nodded, and dropped his head into his hands for a moment. “Fuck. Been a while since I had bad dreams. The amount of shit we'd done, I kinda thought I was past it.”

“Don't think you ever really get past being almost killed every second week,” Jack huffed, and Geoff forced a smile.

“Weren't you on watch?”

“I literally just came to wake you up,” Jack replied. “Gavin needs you to take him into town. He wants to set security cameras up around the house. Just to make sure nothing sneaks up on us.”

“Oh. Okay. Shit, what time is it?” He suddenly realised the sunlight streaming through the windows was far too bright and warm for early morning.

“It's almost twelve,” Jack replied. Then ducked when Geoff swore and threw a pillow at him. “Hey! I wanted to let you sleep, we weren't exactly doing anything urgent. Until Gavin finds our next person we have nothing to do so-”

“Jesus, Jack, we don't have time to lie around now, not with Edgar out there.”

“Hey, come on, what would you have been doing anyway? Hovering over Gavin's shoulder waiting?” Jack snorted. “Normally you're, like, the worst morning person. I did you a favour.”

“Here's what I think of your favour,” Geoff said, and flipped him off before rolling out of bed and hunting around for some pants.

 

* * *

 

He went downstairs to find the entire household engaged in some sort of cold war.

Ryan was still out on the porch. His hostility levels had risen exponentially over the last twenty-four hours, for reasons unknown, and he now seemed to be finding it necessary to remind them at every turn that no, he was not their friend and they were not a team and he was only in this for his own gain, thank you very much. Geoff couldn't give less of a fuck, but it was kind of depressing having him around when he was being like that.

He had no idea what had happened last night, but Michael was holed up in his room, ignoring both Ray _and_ Gavin. And Ray was sitting on the couch in a sullen silence, wrapped up in his own thoughts.

As for Gavin? Gavin was hungover as all hell.

“Jesus, kid, what did you do to yourself last night?” Geoff asked, opening the kitchen bin and grimacing at the empty liquor bottles inside.

“Uhhh,” Gavin replied, head down on the kitchen table.

As much as he was amused, Geoff was equal parts concerned. “Seriously, you weigh like thirty pounds, you must have been _smashed_. I'm surprised you didn't wake us all up. Quiet drunk, huh?”

“I did a lot of things on my computer that made no sense to me this morning,” Gavin groaned, opening one eye to squint at him. “I woke up to find I had tapped into the stream of every security camera in the nearest Walmart.”

“Anything interesting?”

“No.”

“Jack said you wanted to set up cameras here,” Geoff said, sitting opposite him and sliding a glass of orange juice across the table. Gavin took it gratefully, and Geoff winced when he lifted his head – he looked like shit, pale as fuck with deep dark circles under his eyes – but despite the rest he'd gotten, Geoff knew he himself probably didn't look much better. They were all wrung out.

“Yeah,” Gavin replied, a bit nervously. “I mean, we keep watch every night but Edgar's got to be noticing by now that we're taking out his people. I'd like the extra security.”

“It's fine with me, but you don't need to come into town to get them. Just focus on finding the next person we need, alright?”

Gavin hesitated. He glanced towards the stairs, then the porch, and Geoff raised an eyebrow. Maybe he did want the extra security, but he also seemed to want to get the hell out of the house.

“Okay,” he said finally, and got up, dragging himself down to the basement before Geoff could say anything further.

Jack poked his head around the door. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah,” Geoff said, distractedly. With a frown, Jack came to his side, following his gaze.

“You're worried about him,” Jack said.

Geoff shrugged, forcing a smile. “Nah. He'll be fine.”

He was worried about _all_ of them, that was the problem – and before it had been Jack who the majority of his protective instincts were aimed towards, and occasionally Caleb or Lindsay or any of his other hirelings. But there was something about Gavin that made him want to take care of him – and he'd worked with Ray and Michael enough times that he had a healthy level of professional concern for their wellbeing – everyone fighting like this was getting under his skin a little.

 

* * *

 

 

It ended up taking Gavin three days to get his next lead.

They were the most awkward three days of Geoff's life.

Ryan was ignoring everyone. Ray was ignoring everyone. Michael was ignoring everyone.

Gavin spent the entire time down in the basement. He, at least, seemed marginally back to his usual self, insofar as he made stupid conversation with Geoff and asked him a great many 'would you rather' questions to pass the time while he hunted the depths of the internet for anything that might lead them to Edgar.

It turned out that something Ray and Ryan had overheard – Clarence's mention of “the pirate” coming into town – led him to track down their next hit. By the time they were all gathered in the basement together to be briefed, it felt like it had been an age since they all saw each other.

There was a terrible icy tension hanging in the room, and Geoff felt it his duty to break it with a loud: “So who are we murdering next?”

Gavin cracked a smile at that. “The guy who's been funding most of Edgar's projects. Helping manage and launder his money for the more legal transactions he might need to make, and helping him pull in extra than what he makes in heists. He has about five hundred different names he goes by – don't know which is his real one – but among the sort of circles we run in, he's known as 'The Corpirate'.” He broke into chuckles. “ _Corpirate_! What a tool.”

Geoff stiffened at the mention of the name.

“Great,” he said. “The fucking Corpirate. Well this is a dream come true. Of _course_ he's working for Edgar.”

Gavin stopped laughing. “You... you know him?”

“Of course I fucking know him, he's been a pain in my ass for a while. I've run into him a couple of times while I was trying to pull scams and he caused a lot of trouble for me, every time.” He gave a loud snort. “Tried to kill the asshole a few times as well, but he's a wily son of a bitch. Remember when he shot you, Jack?”

“An incident like that is rather hard to forget,” Jack replied, grimly.

“Well that's just fucking great,” Michael growled. “Against all six of us, though? We can probably get him.”

“Where is he, Gavin?” Ryan demanded, leaning over Gavin's shoulder as though he could possibly make sense of the numbers and figures on the computer screens.

“Uhh, not sure yet,” Gavin replied. “I just managed to find out who he is. I'll see if I can trace him down now.”

“Good, you do that,” Geoff said. They dispersed, moving off to their own spaces again. “The fucking Corpirate,” he muttered under his breath, as he headed up to his room to grab his phone.

Jack moved up after him. “We'll get him this time,” he said, and Geoff gave a grim nod.

“At the very least, if Gavin can get a lock on him, we can track him,” he said. “That was our problem last time. The guy moves around all the damn time.”

Jack nodded, but he seemed distracted, and Geoff frowned a little. Jack's words back in the forest – their fight over Gavin – had been bothering him over the last few days. They hadn't brought it back up again, but it was still unsettling him, knowing that Jack might be mulling over it as much as he was.

“Hey,” he said, thinking it better to nip this in the bud. “Back in the tent, what you said...”

Jack's head snapped up, only confirming all of Geoff's suspicions that he remembered it clear as day.

“You don't have to worry, you know,” Geoff said. “That's not... I like Gav, but I don't-”

Jack huffed out a snort. “I told you already, Geoff, I'm not jealous. I just don't like him, that's all.”

“Would you tell me if you _were_ jealous?” Geoff asked, teasingly, and Jack scoffed out a laugh.

“Not until years later when we can laugh about it. Speaking of the Corpirate, you know when we went up against him that last time?”

“The time you got shot?”

“Yes, the time I got shot. Remember Griffon? That hacker helping us track down those bank transactions?”

“Of course I remember Griffon.” She had been smart and funny and hot as fuck. That tended to stick in the mind.

“Yeah.” Jack's lips quirked. “ _That's_ an example of me being jealous. You were so into her it wasn't even subtle.”

“Oh.” He hadn't thought it had been that obvious at the time. “I... you know, Jack, I _was_ into her, but I never... I never wanted to be with her. Not without you, in any case.”

“What does that mean, not without me?” Jack demanded. And then, a second later, caught on. “Wait – fuck – you mean you... what?”

Geoff shrugged. A lesser man may have been embarrassed, but he had long stopped giving a fuck about what other people thought of his sexual preferences; when you owned an entire criminal empire it was other people's turn to be bothered by you.

“If something had happened with Griffon,” he said, “It wouldn't have been just me and her. It would have been _you_ and me and her. All three of us. _Comprende_?”

“I... wow.” Jack looked very thoughtful for a second.

Geoff laughed. “I'm not asking you to start thinking up options for a threesome. I'm just saying that you never need to be jealous because even if I do start thinking about someone else, you're always in the picture.”

“That's... very strange, Geoff, but oddly reassuring,” Jack laughed, and Geoff grinned at him.

“As it should be.”

 

* * *

 

Gavin called them back later that night, having worked all day, it seemed. As soon as Geoff laid eyes on him, he frowned – Gavin had a pinched, worried look about him that didn't bode well.

“What is it?” he demanded. “What's wrong?”

“We, ah, have a slight problem."

“What sort of slight problem?”

Gavin bit his lip. “Okay, so the Corpirate is actually out of the country right now, but he's flying in for one night – tomorrow night – and then he's moving on to Singapore. So we have a very narrow window of opportunity and not much time to plan.”

“That's inconvenient,” Ryan spoke up, “But not disastrous.”

“Yeah, no, the problem is he's landing on his own private airstrip at his big fancy house,” he tapped a key and the aforementioned big fancy house popped up on google maps. “And spending the night at a big function being held there for the annual Gworb shareholder's meeting.”

“What the actual fuck is Gworb,” Michael asked.

“Big multinational deforestation company,” Ryan explained. “Involved in some rather shady dealings, probably breaking hundreds of environmental laws all over the planet. Most of the people who invest in that thing are in the crime industry themselves, or at least willing to consort with those who are.”

“The problem is,” Gavin said, “There's a crapload of important people there and security will be tight – the only way to get in there would be to infiltrate. Sneak in as guests. And I can get invitations and stuff, but – Edgar will have people there. And they'll recognise you guys right away,” he said, glancing from Geoff, to Jack, to Michael and Ray. “So. We're a bit stuck.”

Geoff pondered this for about two seconds before coming to a marvellous solution.

“I have an answer that you are not going to like,” he declared.

Gavin swallowed, nervously.

“What?”

“He knows _our_ faces,” Geoff said, slowly. Gavin's eyes widened as he realised where this was going.

“But,” Geoff continued, “He doesn't know _yours_.”

“Oh Jesus Christ not this again,” Michael groaned, throwing his head back. “He'll fucking refuse to go into the field and there'll be a whole tantrum and we'll have to find some clever way to convince him to-”

“I can't go in there and _murder someone_ ,” Gavin squawked, looking a little shellshocked. “No, I – I bloody refuse, I can't-”

“I never said you'd do the murdering,” Geoff said, and gave a wicked little grin. “There's someone else here who Edgar has never seen the face of, and that's because he has, very conveniently, been wearing a full face mask this whole time.”

If Ryan had not been wearing said full face mask, the look on his face would likely have been priceless; he went very, very stiff for a moment. Then he let out a long, low growl.

“You are not. Fucking. Serious,” he said.

“Hey, Geoff has a point,” Ray piped up. “That's why you wear that, right? For moments like this when your real face is actually the best mask you could ask for?”

“I'm not taking my damn mask off to go undercover to some fancy party,” Ryan said.

“You don't have much of a choice, not if you want to get this guy,” Geoff pointed out. “Even I wouldn't dare break in there.”

“I mean, we could always just blow the whole place up,” Michael spoke up.

Gavin shook his head. “Where will we get that many explosives in time? How will we sneak them in?”

“You're sure there's no other way?” Ray asked, quietly. “If you got him outside... I could snipe him?”

“The house is in a big open area, there's nowhere to snipe _from_ ,” Geoff pointed out. “No, our best bet is to have Ryan go in and Gavin in there for back up.”

“Why do I have to go in at all?” Gavin groaned.

“You tell me, buddy, if you can guide Ryan through it on his own it's fine,” Geoff began, but Gavin was already shaking his head.

“We need at least two people in there. There's a camera system set up in the house I can hack into, but there are some blind spots. If... if I did go in, someone else would have to keep an eye on it, let us know where people are at.” He bit his lip. “I don't... couldn't we, like, poison him or something? That might be safer.”

“You can never be certain with poison,” Ryan said quietly. He looked considering, now, and Geoff had to admit to being curious as to whether he'd agree to unveil his face for them. “I suppose... it might work. If Gavin agrees to come in too. Then you lot can watch from the cams and come in for back up if we need it.”

“I don't...” Gavin trailed off, hesitantly.

“Gav, I will double your pay if you do this,” Geoff suggested, but Gavin was barely listening to him. After a moment, he glanced at Michael – who was sneering at him challengingly, seeming convinced he was going to chicken out – and Gavin's back straightened, then, as though accepting a challenge.

“I'll just be your look out,” he said, turning to address Ryan. “And if things go to shit you _have_ to get me out of there.”

“Sure,” Ryan replied. “Like I said last time. I need you alive.”

“In that case... I guess I should start arranging things,” Gavin said, and turned back to his computer – not without shooting Ryan a long, curious glance, obviously wondering what exactly he was going to look like when he finally took his mask off.

The rest of them were staring at Ryan as well, and after a moment he threw up his hands, said, “For God's sake, you're all a bunch of nosy old parkers,” and strode off back upstairs.

 

* * *

 

Gavin had no idea what he was doing.

Why, oh why had he agreed to go through with this? When he took this job it had been under the assurance that he'd do nothing but sit safely behind a monitor all day, relaying information. And now he'd been chased and shot at already and was about to head right back into danger again.

It was all that damn Michael's fault. Why he had to be such a pissy little bitch about things was beyond Gavin. But somehow – looking at him standing there smirking, obviously just waiting for Gavin to prove his cowardice – something had flared up in him. Not just a desire to prove _Michael_ wrong, but to show _himself_ that he wasn't as pathetic as all that. That he still had the capacity to be brave, and strong – that that hadn't been beaten out of him, not yet.

 _On the plus side, at least I'll get to see what Ryan looks like_. He couldn't quite help the thrill of excitement that gave him. So sue him, he was curious – anyone in the circle of the criminal underground would be. A hundred police officers would be wetting themselves with excitement at the chance to see what the most infamous killer in the country actually looked like.

And then, quite by accident – he found another of Edgar's men.

All he'd been trying to do was get himself and Ryan onto the guest list – under alibis, of course – when he somehow managed to tap into some emails. And there it was – another of Edgar's higher-ups who'd been planning on going to the function but had to cancel to travel elsewhere – quite out of nowhere, there they were.

And then, upon digging deeper – Gavin realised they had a few more problems than he'd originally thought.

 

* * *

 

“I don't know this guy's name,” Gavin said, having called everyone back in. “But look at that impressive facial hair. I'm going to call him Beardo the Magnificent.”

“Okay,” Geoff replied, folding his arms. “Uh, who exactly is he?”

“He is causing us some problems,” Gavin replied. “It seems like he's part of Edgar's inner-inner-circle. The third or fourth in command, even – he runs some of the smaller operations, sends messages down the chain of command. Thing is, he's leaving the country in a couple of days as well, so if we want to get him we'll have to be quick.”

“Wait, wait,” Jack cut in with a frown. “You're saying we're gonna have to run two operations at once if we want to get both Beardo and the Corpirate.”

“Yeah,” Gavin said, and bit his lip. “It's, um, not ideal.”

“We only need three people,” Ryan spoke up. “You and I, Gavin, to go in. And then one other person to monitor the cameras. The other three can go after Beardo. Where is he?”

“Interstate, actually,” Gavin replied. “From what I could tell he's planning a heist of some sort for Edgar in this city here. You can make it there in time to intercept him, and tonight I can pull up as much info as possible to make it easier for you, but otherwise you're gonna have to work it out yourself because I'll be busy with this Gworb thing.”

“I can do it,” Ray spoke up, quietly. “I have a couple of contacts over there.”

“Me too,” Geoff mused. “That means Jack, you come with us, and Michael, you stay with Gav and Ryan on camera duty.” He glanced between Michael and Ray. “Hope you two don't mind being split up.”

“Not at all,” Michael said, coldly.

Ray just shrugged, not looking at his friend, and Gavin again felt very, very confused. He didn't know why Ray had been acting so strangely lately; he had thought he was very close to Michael but suddenly both of them seemed at odds with each other. If anything, it was understandable on Michael's part – Ray had been pushing Michael away the last few days and even Gavin could tell that he was hurt, even if he wasn't happy about Michael taking that out on him.

“In that case we need to leave right away if we want to get to that city in time,” Geoff said. “Gavin, send me everything you have on him, we'll figure out the rest. Then you guys focus on the Pirate. And no one lose their fucking phones this time, I want you all checking in every step of the way, you got that?”

They all nodded.

“Cool. We're close as dicks now, once this is done Edgar will be down an arm and a leg.” Grinning widely, he clapped Gavin on the shoulder before turning to leave.

 

* * *

 

It was going on nightfall by the time Gavin had scrounged up all he could on Beardo, and headed blearily upstairs to see the others off.

Everyone, it seemed, was scattered about and rather disorganised. Geoff and Ray were already out front but Jack was in the kitchen, packing bottles of water into his backpack. Michael was standing by him and they were talking – Gavin paused by the door. He didn't mean to eavesdrop but couldn't help but catch part of their conversation as he debated whether he should pop in to say goodbye.

“-seriously, he was worried as fuck about you when he realised you weren't with us,” Jack was saying. “The whole time we were looking for you two he was scared sick. It wasn't about Gavin, it was about _you_.”

“Yeah, well why the fuck did he brush me right off as soon as he found us then?” Michael demanded.

Jack shook his head slowly. “That I don't know. But he... he does care about you.”

“Well he has a God damn interesting way of showing it,” Michael grunted. And then, because the world was against Gavin, he looked out the door and caught him hovering.

“Do you fucking want something, Gavin?” Michael demanded. Jack was glaring at him too now, obviously annoyed that he'd been listening in.

Gavin shook his head and quickly scurried away, but walked smack-bang into Ryan, who grabbed his shoulders to steady him.

“Alright?” Ryan drawled, and Gavin nodded, squirming away.

Ryan made him nervous nowadays; any trust he'd thought he'd felt for the other man had dissipated quickly when he started acting like the bloody Terminator.

“You sure?” Ryan asked then.

As he had no filters at the best of times, Gavin blurted out, “Are you annoyed with me?”

Ryan actually seemed taken aback by that. “I... no, Gavin, I'm not annoyed with you. Why would you think that?”

“I dunno, you've just been full of vinegar lately and...” He trailed off, not wanting to bring up anything to do with that moment in the tent when Ryan had... had seen. Best not to let that come up as a topic of conversation.

“Full of vinegar?” Ryan questioned.

“Like. Irritable and antsy. You were friendly before and now you're not.”

He could swear Ryan was _amused_ by that.

“Okay,” Ryan said. “That's not your fault, alright? I've had a lot on my mind and I want to bring Edgar down, so yes, I have been “ _full of vinegar_ ” as you so metaphorically put it. But,” and here he paused, carefully, and Gavin saw his eyes behind the mask dart quickly, almost involuntarily down to Gavin's chest – to what he knew lay behind the layers of clothing – before they moved back up to his face. “That wasn't about you.”

Gavin nodded. His arms had come up to fold over his chest protectively. He felt awkward suddenly, ungainly in Ryan's presence, and turned away quickly to leave.

 

* * *

 

 

The house had been quiet before, everyone absorbed in their own business – but with half of their party gone, it felt even emptier somehow.

Gavin couldn't sleep that night, suddenly nervous at the prospect of what was to come the next evening. He felt sick to his stomach but tried to ignore it, focusing on throwing himself into his work, sorting out their invitations for the event and setting up all his information feeds to tap into the security cameras in the Corpirate's huge mansion.

The blind spots were dreadfully inconvenient; all of them were indoor places – the bedroom, a few bathrooms – the places they were most likely to be able to get him on his own and unguarded to carry out the assassination.

By the time the next day dawned he had returned to his usual coping mechanism of just steadfastly trying not to think about what was coming up. If he didn't think about it, it couldn't stress him out. Patented Gavin Free logic right there.

Michael was still annoyed with him, but they didn't see each other that morning as the other man went out to get suits for them, since formal dress wasn't exactly something they carried around or used regularly enough to have brought here to Geoff's house.

When he returned, Gavin summoned both of the others to the basement to explain how things would go.

“Michael,” Gavin explained, “See here?” He pointed to the screens. “These are the camera feeds to all the rooms, and here's a blueprint of the building. So if you're guiding Ryan somewhere, you need to tell him who and what is in the rooms around him so we know.”

“Yeah, yeah, I'm not fucking stupid.”

“You click on one to zoom in then you can tap out to get back to all of them or switch between them. We'll all have little earpieces so we can keep in touch.” He turned to the printer and snatched up the invitations he'd made out for them, having gone in and edited the guest list then found the invitation template.

“Ryan, you and I are now James and David Freewood, respectively. You're a minor shareholder in Gworb and I'm your plus one.”

Ryan and Michael both stared at him for a very long time. Gavin shifted uncomfortably, unsure exactly what was the problem.

“Ummm... have I bollocksed something horribly or is there something on my face?”

“James and David Freewood,” Michael repeated slowly. “James. And David. Freewood.”

“Yeeees....?”

“Oh, I don't know, Gavin, what about the fact that you have the same fucking _last name_?!” Michael practically screeched.

“Oh,” Gavin said. “I. Didn't think of that?” He'd done it in a rush, at three in the morning, brain addled with sleep deprivation and no small amount of nerves. “I guess we're brothers then!”

“Brothers?!” Michael looked ready to have an aneurysm. He turned to Ryan. “Ryan, under that mask do you look _anything_ at all like Gavin?”

“Not really,” Ryan said. He sounded amused rather than annoyed, to Gavin's eternal relief.

“Not to mention _no one takes their fucking brother as their plus one_!” Michael yelled.

“Well, I can't change it now!” Gavin cried. “I've already messed with the list once, they'll notice!”

“That's alright,” Ryan said, very calmly. “We'll just have to be married instead.”

Silence followed this declaration. Then Michael burst into wild, raucous laughter. Laughter so intense that he actually fell to the floor and clutched at his stomach.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck,” he gasped. “I'll have to go find you fucking wedding rings now.”

Gavin stared at Ryan, a little shellshocked. Before he could react, Ryan got down on one knee and grabbed his hand.

“David,” Ryan intoned deeply, “Will you take me, James Freewood, to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

Michael _screeched_ , and then fell into such silent, gasping convulsions that Gavin half feared he was having a stroke.

“I,” Gavin began, and then, for one of the few times in his life, actually could not find anything to say.

“Don't leave me hanging,” Ryan prompted, and Gavin snatched his hand back. His cheeks were flaming and he didn't know why. This was all just _pretend_ , after all, they were going undercover like bloody James Bond or whatever.

“Stop it,” he said, far more shyly than he liked, and Ryan just snorted before getting up and turning back towards the stairs. Gavin vaguely registered that the older man was, at least, back to having a sense of humour.

“Fuck,” Michael said from the floor, voice wrung out with laughter. “I think I actually pissed myself.”

 

* * *

 

It had been a long, long time since Gavin prepared for any sort of formal event. Especially considering he had spent the last six months doing little more than lying about in bed in his pyjamas. The suit sat uncomfortably on his shoulders; it fit well enough but it was stiff in the way all new clothes are, and for someone who perpetually wore t-shirts and hoodies it was unfamiliar, to say the least.

Still. It was a nice cut – Michael had good taste in _something_ , at least – plain black over a white shirt. He vaguely registered that his hands were shaking as he fumbled to tie his tie, and it took a couple of attempts before it would lie flat. A green silk scarf finished off the outfit, and when Gavin looked in the mirror after fixing his hair, he was a little startled by the fact that he actually seemed pretty put together. To look at him you wouldn't think that there were ghosts or scars or a hundred sleepless nights hiding inside.

It was almost a relief to at least _look_ normal. He straightened his cuffs before heading out to find the others.

They were both sitting in the living room, already waiting, though they still had a good deal of time before they had to be at the event. It was a significant drive, all the way on the other side of Achievement City.

Ryan stood up when Gavin entered. He was in a slim cut black suit with an emerald tie, and Gavin couldn't help but stare.

“Wow, you're well fit, Ryan,” he said, before he could stop himself. “I mean, um-”

“Thank you,” Ryan replied drily. His eyes dragged slowly over Gavin in turn, and he squirmed a little, suddenly feeling very self conscious, being somewhat shorter and a good deal scrawnier. He turned to Michael to distract himself, only to find the other man staring at him as well, though his eyes flicked away quickly when he realised he'd been noticed.

“Here,” Ryan said, holding out a ring. Gavin noticed he was already wearing one on his own finger, a simple gold band, and he took it with a mumbled thanks, glad that Ryan wasn't making a big fuss out of it.

“Mr Freewood,” Ryan added then, with a laugh in his voice, and Gavin flipped him the bird as he slid the ring on.

“Oh stop.”

“I like how you just fucking mashed your last names together,” Michael cut in. “Real creative, Gavin.”

“I've done this before, _Mi_ chael,” Gavin shot back. “Well, not the going undercover part, but the making up fake documents part. You should use something reasonably familiar so if someone calls it, you know to turn around and you don't get caught out.”

“That's actually quite clever,” Ryan said, and Gavin glanced at him, surprised by the sincerity in his tone. He noticed then that Ryan was still wearing his mask.

“Are you taking that off now?” he asked.

Ryan hesitated. “I suppose,” he said – and though he seemed as composed as usual, Gavin had made a life's work of picking up on people's tells.

Ryan was nervous.

Ryan was nervous about taking his mask off, about other people seeing his face in God knows how many years – and there was something oddly endearing about that.

Ryan reached up, then paused.

“Fuck, I can't believe I'm doing this,” he said. “This is seven years of fucking work right here. My insurance in case I need to disappear one day. And I'm blowing it on _Edgar_.”

“Is taking him down really worth that much to you?” Gavin asked, quietly, and Ryan gave a decisive nod.

“Yeah,” he said – and didn't elaborate. Just pulled the mask off.

Gavin stared. And then stared some more. He was – alarmingly normal looking? As in, he didn't look like a serial killer, and he wasn't scarred horribly. He was square jawed, a bit beardy, and had blue eyes.

Actually, the longer Gavin looked at him, the more he started to look sort of very attractive – which, okay, abort, abort, totally not what he needed to be thinking about right now, even if they were about to go off and be pretend husbands.

He glanced at Michael, who was also staring, and wondered what the other man was thinking.

“Not what you were expecting?” Ryan asked, only half jokingly.

“Uh,” Gavin said. “Not. Not really, but then again I was sort of expecting you to look really evil.”

“Really evil? What does that even mean?” Ryan asked.

“I don't know, like bloody Red Skull or something,” Gavin said, flustered. “But you're fine.”

“Oh. I'm fine. Okay. I'll keep that one close to my heart.”

“Let's get on with things,” Michael cut in, and Ryan snapped to attention with a nod. And God, Gavin was picking up so much now just from being able to see his facial expressions – he was alert and determined and very, very in control – any doubts Gavin might have had about this going wrong were starting to be abated by just how _professional_ Ryan seemed.

“Test the earpiece,” Michael said, tapping at his. “One two three, one two three, you getting that?”

They both nodded.

“Well then,” Michael said, and moved to open the door for them. “Enjoy your evening, Mr and Mrs Freewood.”

“ _No_ ,” said Gavin, insistently. “We're both Mr Freewood. No one's the wife here.”

“Whatever you say, Gavvy,” Michael sneered, but before Gavin could argue more, Ryan put a hand on his back, steering him out. Gavin jumped a little at the contact, and tensed even more when Ryan leaned in closer to him.

“Come on, _sweetheart_ , we don't want to be late,” he said, voice low and teasing, and Gavin had to fight not to shiver.

 _Jesus Christ_ , he thought. _Just – chill, okay, this is. Going to be fine. He's taking the piss but you can too._

And then, when Ryan insisted on opening the car door for him – an impish smile at his lips the whole time – _shit, this is going to be a long night._


	6. Chapter 6

Ray was the third wheel.

This unpleasant realisation was reached after about the third or the fourth awkward silence. In between said silences they had backbit a lot of vague, mutual mercenary acquaintances, failed miserably at a quiz being aired on a talk back radio channel (the prizes were lame as fuck anyway), and listened to more Garth Brooks than was really reasonable for this hour of the night.

But between each activity there was always a long, uncomfortable pause in which Ray became acutely aware of the fact that while he'd worked with these two before, it had always been with Michael there next to him to balance things out.

It wasn't even subtle; now and then Geoff would start a conversation with Jack that would inevitably drift into something that just the two of them knew – Achievement City business or people they knew who Ray didn't – and sometimes they'd lean back and sort of awkwardly try to include him, but it was painfully obvious who the odd one out was here.

And normally – normally Ray would have given exactly zero fucks.

But not right now. Not when he and Michael had parted on such terrible terms and he _knew_ the other man was upset at him – knew that it was all completely his fault because he had been the one to push him away and act all cold back in the forest, but even if time was rolled back around he probably would do the same thing all over again, because for the first time in his life he had _no fucking idea what to do._

He'd been angsting over it for three days and was still no closer to coming up with some sort of solid... reaction, or response. What was he meant to do? Should he talk to Michael about it?

Back in the forest, he'd been scared, when he thought the other might be in danger. But then when they found each other again he had been overtaken with such _awkwardness_ that he hadn't known what to do and it had been easier to just turn to Gavin instead, to brush off Michael until he could think of something to say to him. Of course, Michael didn't know that, and now he was pissed – with good reason – and Ray couldn't apologise or explain because then he'd have to tell Michael what Ryan had told him.

And what was it Ryan had said? _Maybe he doesn't realise it himself yet._

No – there was no way he could just bring it up.

But in the meantime, he was left with a great many uncomfortable questions.

_Why couldn't fucking Ryan have just kept this to himself?_ Ray thought, studiously ignoring the fact that he had been the one who insisted on being told.

“Penny for your thoughts.”

Geoff's voice broke through his reverie, and Ray blinked. He forced a smile, shaking his head a little.

“Nothing all that interesting.”

Geoff and Jack exchanged a glance, and Ray knew they knew exactly who he was thinking about. Geoff opened his mouth as though he was about to say something, but Jack reached out, pressing his arm lightly, and he ended up not saying a word. Ray turned to lean his head against the window, pretending he hadn't seen.

They drove mostly in silence after that.

 

* * *

 

 

They made good time, and ended up stopping at a motel a few hours after midnight to rest up a little. It was a rather dingy little place; a motor inn at the side of the highway with moths trapped in every flickering fluorescent light tube and a single, sleepy-eyed attendant. They booked one room with a single and a double, in the interests of all being together on the off chance that someone came to attack them (unlikely, but better safe than sorry).

At least out on the road they'd been on the move, but in the still and quiet of the motel room Ray felt more out of place than ever. There was something oddly domestic about the way Jack and Geoff shuffled around each other in the small space – checking windows and locks, taking turns at the bathroom and tossing a coin to see who'd take first watch – while Ray sat there like an unsightly, out-of-place piece of modern art that people aren't quite sure what to make of.

The way the two other men moved about reminded him of how he and Michael used to do things, when they stayed in hotel rooms on jobs; comfortable in the routine of each other's company.

“Ray.”

It wasn't until Jack's voice broke the silence that he realised he'd been sitting still for some time and the other two had fallen quiet. He looked around – Geoff was in the bedroom, seeming about to get some sleep, and Jack had come out to the main room where Ray was sitting on the couch. There was an odd look on his face, something soft and concerned that Ray had only seem him display towards Geoff before.

“I'll go to sleep in a bit,” Ray said, “If you're taking first watch.”

“Sure,” Jack replied, and came to sit next to him. Ray stiffened a little awkwardly, wondering if he was about to pry further about what was going on with Michael – everyone was dying for them to make up, he knew – but Jack just reached out and took hold of his wrist.

“Let me check that arm of yours,” he said.

Ray blinked a few times, then nodded. “Healing up,” he said, rolling his sleeve back. “I've been changing the bandages and shit, it's pretty much starting to scar by now.”

Jack nodded, and set about checking it anyway, his hands very gentle, while Ray sat in a jittery silence for a few moments. His mind drifted back to Geoff and the two's interactions, and – maybe because he was tired, or stressed, or wrung out – the question slipped out before he could stop it.

“Hey, can I ask you something?”

“Go ahead.”

Ray bit his lip, glancing towards the bedroom door. “You and Geoff...”

“We're not gonna bang here, don't worry. We'll spare you the trauma of hearing us,” Jack huffed, and Ray cracked a small grin for the first time in a couple of days. Jack smiled a bit.

“Nah, that's not what I wanted to ask. Back when Vav was asking how you got together, you said you both just sort of... realised one day.”

“That's right.” Jack sat back, looking at him curiously, but didn't ask why he was asking, which was the only reason Ray really went on.

“How... how did that even work, exactly? I mean, one of you must have known first and you must have, like, discussed it or some shit. I don't know. I'm just trying to get my head around how that would even happen.”

“The same way it happens to hundreds of people every day,” Jack replied, rolling his eyes. “Except, you know, we're high profile criminals and not teenaged school kids. We were really close friends and then... well, for me, it happened slowly. I already knew I cared about him a lot but with every mission or hit or heist we did I just – started noticing how much I admired him and how much it would shatter me if something happened. Him being kidnapped brought things to a head but they were well in motion before that.”

“And there was never a moment where... where you weren’t sure how you felt, or you thought fuck it, this might ruin our friendship?”

Jack chuckled. “Of course there were moments. We were, like, your age, Ray, we weren't always as _old and wise_ as we are now.” He looked speculative, now, but still didn't ask what this was about, and Ray had a sudden sneaking suspicion that the only reason he wasn't asking was because _he already knew_ , which, well, fuck.

“Right,” He said, and got up abruptly, snatching his arm back. “Thanks. Well, I'm off to bed.”

“Goodnight then.” Jack sounded _amused_ and Ray wasn't sure why he was suddenly flushing warm with embarrassment. He retreated quickly to his room and flopped down on the hard, lumpy mattress, letting out a long stream of breath.

_Jesus Christ_ . He felt nervous; stressed and out of sorts, and it wasn't exactly the ideal temperament to go walking into a mission with. But the thing was – if Michael liked him, if he did end up sorting out his feelings and he... ended up wanting more, then. Then Ray would have to start thinking, in turn, of how  _he_ felt about  _Michael_ .

And right now, lying in the uncomfortable motel bed, staring up at the dark ceiling, he tried to envision it. Wondered at how Michael's hand might fit in his, or how it would feel to press their lips together.

Thinking about that was starting to freak him out, but somehow – it was easier if he instead imagined the two of them as Jack and Geoff; that easy camaraderie, the ability to tease each other or otherwise act just like best friends except with an added level of...  _something_ . He wondered how much things had changed after Jack and Geoff started dating; if there was any sort of marked shift. Or if things had stayed like before, just...  _more_ .

_Fuck my life what am I doing,_ he thought, and pulled out his phone to check the time – not long till dawn, which was fucking fantastic, now he'd be tired  _and_ confused. He absently checked his text messages, though he already could see there was nothing new, and his finger hovered over Michael's name, wondering if he should send him something – he'd probably be asleep; since Gavin installed the cameras they didn't need to take watches quite so often – but maybe it would be easier to write something than say it out loud. Not even an apology, but a simple 'goodnight' – something to show that he wasn't  _angry_ , that he still cared.

But when he started to type his heart rate picked up and his stomach started to churn and he ended up deleting the few letters he'd managed to get out and throwing his phone back into his jacket pocket, unable to go through with it.

He drifted into an uneasy sleep after that.

 

* * *

 

They left the motel at six and drove for another seven hours. Ray fell asleep in the car, to his great chagrin, and woke up with somebody's jacket over him, which was a surprise, to say the least. He wasn't quite sure where he considered himself in Jack and Geoff's standing;  _friends_ seemed a little overly familiar.

Then again, they were all stuck together trying to bring down some psychopath in a cow mask who was trying to kill them; he supposed that was enough to force anybody into friendship.

Beardo the Magnificent was due to arrive today in a middling sized city mostly known in their circle for its predominant meth trade. And as Beardo's plans had changed so abruptly at the last minute to bring him there, Gavin had figured it must have been because of some sort of recent development – all they needed to find out now was what.

Ray had a couple of contacts there, but Geoff had more, and so he took charge. They visited at least half a dozen people who all had varying degrees of knowledge, but one thing that kept popping up was that word had recently leaked out that a certain Flynt Coal, a private investigator notorious for messing in things that didn't concern him, was in town.

“Maybe Edgar wants him for some reason,” Geoff mused. “If he's got something on him – on his identity or one of his contacts – it's probably a good idea to take him out while his head's above water.”

“That does seem like the most likely possibility,” Jack replied.

“Well, I'll ask a couple more people and if there's nothing else really new here, we'll just have to go with that,” Geoff said.

They got back in the car and started driving.

“You seem to have an endless supply of contacts,” Ray spoke up, and Geoff glanced at him in the rear view mirror with a grin.

“Damn right I do. Ryan has the right idea, taking down Edgar's people – you don't get anywhere on your own. Jack's my must trusted confidant, of course,” he said, and Jack snorted.

“That's one way of putting it.”

“But if you're going to run an empire you need people everywhere. High and low and in all sorts of professions – Burnie was good at putting me in touch with a lot of them. Hell, Ray, you're one of my main guys back in Achievement City.”

“I am?” Ray asked, a little surprised.

“Fuck yeah you are. Why do you think I've asked for your help so many times? I have my pick of mercenaries, I can certainly afford any one I want. You're smart, reliable, strategic, and combined with Michael you have a varied skill set. If something was going down back in AC and I needed information you'd probably be on my list of people to check out.”

“Wow. Okay,” Ray said, honestly a little flabbergasted.

Truth be told, when they first worked with Geoff he'd been a little in awe; he wasn't one to get star struck and certainly not one to show it, but Geoff had made a big, big name for himself and on the very small list of people who Ray genuinely _admired_ , he was close to if not at the top. Living with him for the past week had been an interesting experience; seeing him in an entirely different habitat, but the care he and Jack had shown to them – and especially, Ray realised thoughtfully, the concern Geoff showed Gavin – had, if anything, only made him like the man more.

They asked a couple more people and got the same answer – Flynt Coal's sudden arrival had been the only new development – and thus they had their lead.

They'd gotten enough information from the various people they'd spoken to to piece together where he was; he'd supposedly been holed up in a nondescript little hotel and would be leaving that night. They went and booked rooms at the same place, so that they could keep an eye on when he left as well as having a chance to rest up, eat and prepare in the few hours they had until sundown.

“We'll tail him until Beardo shows up,” Geoff announced, as they sat around in the common area of their room.

“Is that the whole plan?” Ray asked.

Geoff nodded. “Yeah. It's a one-line plan. Short and simple.”

Jack rolled his eyes. “It's only one-line if you leave out all the unspoken elements. We'll tail him in two different vehicles. You and Ray take one and I'll take the other; if something goes down I'll snipe from afar while you two stay up close. If Beardo tries to run you guys follow and let me know where he's headed so I can come around and cut him off if need be.”

“Right,” Ray said, relieved at this added layer of detail.

They were taking turns at the window, where they had a vantage point of both main exits (it being a very small hotel), when Jack's phone buzzed. It was getting dark by now.

“It's Michael,” he said, and Ray fought not to stiffen.

“Oh right,” Geoff said. “I nearly forgot to check in with them. How's everything going back there?”

“He says that Ryan and Gavin just left to drive out to the Corpirate's place,” Jack said. And then huffed out a laugh, delighted amusement in his tone. “ _'Turns out Ryan's been secretly handsome as fuck this whole time. Thought you'd like to know.'”_

Geoff burst out laughing and even Ray managed a smile at that.

“Oh God,” Geoff said. “It figureswe'd be the ones to miss out. He'd better have taken a damn photo in case Ryan puts the mask back on after he's finished.”

Ray nodded – feeling a little bummed out now that he was missing the chance to see Ryan's face. Like everyone else he was burning with curiosity to know what the other man actually looked like.

_Michael thinks he's handsome._ It hit him with a sort of twinge, and out of nowhere the sudden, absurd possibility struck him that Michael might go off him and start being into Ryan instead. Which on the one hand would make life a lot less complicated for Ray personally, but-

But it also made him annoyed, for reasons he couldn't explain, and wasn't about to start analysing half an hour before a hit.

“You think everything will go as planned for them?” Geoff asked. Ray turned around, but he was addressing Jack, who shook his head.

“I don't know. I hope so – I trust Ryan to get the job done – but Gavin...” he pressed his lips together. “I dunno, he's a bit of a wild card in the field.”

“He'll be fine,” Ray spoke up, shortly, and the other two turned, raising their eyebrows at his brusque tone.

Ray ignored them, taking out his phone and fiddling with it. Again he wondered if he should text Michael – it might build the bridge between them a little, since silence was getting them nowhere – but, again, he chickened out. And this more than anything made him uncomfortable, because Ray was no coward; he feared very little and had never really had qualms about saying anything to his friends, so the fact that he was nervous about Michael's reaction to even a simple ' _good luck_ ' was pretty telling.

Again:  _don't think about it._ Not right now, anyway.

Instead he pulled up Gavin's number, and fired off a quick, “ _Good luck, you'll be fine_ '.” He still didn't know why the other man was so jumpy about not wanting to go into the field, but it sucked that this, his first real assignment, was dangerous as fuck and he only had Ryan for backup.

He settled back against the window to wait, and when Gavin sent back a “ _thanks_ ” and a smiley face, it – for reasons unknown – made him smile too.

That lasted about ten seconds. Then Jack straightened up, abruptly, and pointed out the window.

“There. He's leaving, let's go.”

 

* * *

 

 

Gavin kept staring at him.

He thought he was being very discreet; darting quick little looks over at Ryan every few minutes and mostly when he was distracted by traffic lights or speed bumps or turning a corner. But Ryan missed nothing.

He couldn't bring himself to be annoyed, though. Gavin was curious – it was only natural – even if it made Ryan feel self conscious for the first time in many, many years, and he wasn't quite sure why.

_Stop it, you fool,_ he told himself. It was bad enough he'd felt  _nervous_ when taking his mask off, but this was on a whole other level.  _Who the fuck cares what they all think of your face. After this job they'll never be seeing it again, so._

A rustle sounded through his earpiece as Michael shifted about back at the house.

“How're you guys going?” he asked, voice a little tinny given how far our Ryan and Gavin were by now. “People are starting to arrive at the house. No sign of the Corpirate yet, though.”

“We're about half an hour away,” Ryan replied. “Any word from the others yet?”

“Yeah, Jack says they think they've found Beardo's lead and they're waiting for him to show up.”

“Good. Everyone's on track then,” Ryan said.

Another pause. Michael sighed, again, for the fifth or sixth time in the last hour. He was evidently bored at waiting around.

“So what's the story?” he asked. “You know, in case anyone asks. James and David Freewood. When'd you meet? How long have you been married for?” And then, after a pause and with a sly chuckle, “Who tops in bed?”

Gavin's ears turned very red, but he was the one who replied, something like relief in his tone – there had been a somewhat tense silence in the car previously, and the banter was welcome for all of them - “We keep it close to the truth. I work in IT, Ryan's a... a bodyguard.”

Interesting,  Ryan thought, how  _protection_ was the first thing Gavin's mind went to when supplying Ryan with a 'realistic' job for his personality and skill set.

“It's a green card marriage,” Gavin continued, and there was an explosion of splutters on Michael's end.

“Fucking  _what_ ,” he said, and even Ryan glanced at Gavin in amusement.

Gavin shrugged. “Why not? I wanted to come to the states but I couldn't get a visa so Ryan and I came to a mutual agreement that he'd marry me.”

“And what do I get out of this agreement?” Ryan asked.

“Sex,” Michael supplied instantly.

Gavin laughed, but he looked flustered agin, and Ryan noticed that his hands were twitchy and shaking in his lap. He was obviously nervous about going out in the field, and for a moment Ryan wondered if this had been a good idea after all – he didn't mind working alone, or in a group if the occasion called for it, but he'd never had someone who could be a genuine liability on his side before. But it was too late to do anything about that now.

“Nah, it can't be a green card marriage,” Michael decided. “That's not romantic at all.”

“Well, Ryan doesn't seem like a very romantic sort of person,” Gavin replied – and Ryan turned to him then, eyebrows rising.

“How would you know?” he asked, staring at Gavin intently. Gavin made eye contact for about two seconds before looking away, embarrassed. “I could be very romantic,” Ryan continued.

There was a moment of odd silence.

Both the younger men seemed almost surprised that he was playing along with their conversation, especially given how aloof he'd been the last few days. Ryan supposed he couldn't blame them. He had been distant, sure – but like he'd told Gavin, he'd been working things out. It had... alarmed him, how concerned he'd been for Gavin upon seeing the scars. How much he'd  _cared_ . And for a while, for a little while, he'd pulled away, thinking it best to keep his distance lest he get – oh horror of horrors –  _attached_ .

But he'd felt uncharacteristically bad when Gavin had thought he was mad at him, and, being a rational man, had decided that:

a) he had enough self control to interact with them in a friendly manner without letting himself slip up, and

b) people getting annoyed at him would only make all of them more unproductive.

Not to mention Gavin trusting him again – as he seemed to when Ryan was in the spirit of good humour – would make things run a lot more smoothly.

“Gavin was working at a vault,” he declared then. “And I was security. That's a job where we'd spend a lot of time in close proximity. One day there was a fire so we had to lock ourselves in the safe room and we were trapped in there for hours with no one else, so we got talking. After that we started dating and we've been married for about a year.”

A moment of silence.

“That's weird as fuck but it's marginally cuter than the green card thing,” Michael mused.

“But why was there a fire?” Gavin asked.

Ryan shrugged. “I don't know, I made that up off the top of my head.”

“But you must _know_ , Ryan,” Gavin insisted. “Who lit it? Was it an accident or was it deliberate?”

“I... there was a fire down the street and the whole block caught alight.”

“Okay. Good. Now we know the details,” Gavin said, and settled back into his seat.

“You're stupid,” Michael supplied, for no apparent reason other than to provoke Gavin.

Gavin frowned. “Why am I stupid?”

“Because who the fuck cares who lit the fire? You're like a fucking child, you need to know everything. _Why, why, why_?”

“You're the one asking a bloody lot of questions and not coming up with anything yourself,” Gavin shot back.

“Fuck you, I'm ten times more prepared than you and you're the one going undercover-”

“ _Settle down, girls_ ,” Ryan sing-songed, in his deepest voice.

“What the actual fuck, Ryan,” Michael replied, but he did fall silent. Gavin turned away to look out the window, pouting, but any good will that that permeated their team had disappeared completely.

Ryan sighed, his fingers tightening on the steering wheel. He couldn't really bring himself to be annoyed by Michael, even if his attempts to rile up Gavin were obvious and somewhat mean.

God, he had fucked everything up by telling Ray. He had thought – wrongly, it seemed – that they'd sort it out between them. That they'd talk it out and maybe get together, or that Ray would ignore it, not suddenly give Michael the cold shoulder.

It had been a stupid, stupid mistake on his part, and he knew he should never have interfered – he'd just gotten frustrated by seeing them dance obliviously around each other.

Now he'd messed everything up, and it was obvious that Ray was confused and struggling to work out how he felt, and Michael was all that _and_ upset that his best friend was suddenly ignoring him.

Even if Michael was lashing out at Gavin, though, he was at least somewhat productive in his anger – Ryan had been surprised just how good he was to work with when they'd gone to take out Edgar's men in the forest together. Ryan had something of a reputation for being bloodthirsty himself, and that night he and Michael had worked together seamlessly; they'd barely spoken to each other but the sheer amount of destruction they'd wrought on Edgar's cronies was impressive.

But still. He wasn't about to start messing about even more by trying to talk to Michael about it, by prompting him to do anything that might just ruin things with Ray further, so he was forced to sit back and let things play out.

 

* * *

 

 

The Corpirate's fancy mansion was all lit up, abustle with noise and light and people, a little beacon of activity in the middle of acres of empty land. There were already lots of cars parked out in the back drive, and they were the only new arrivals at this moment, alone in the car park when Ryan pulled up and got out of the car.

“He here yet, Michael?” he asked.

“No,” Michael replied. “No sign of him yet. Don't think his plane has even come in, I don't see it anywhere.”

“Okay,” Ryan said. He turned to Gavin, who was leaning against the car, staring at the ground and breathing heavily. Now that they had actually arrived, it seemed he'd been struck by nerves again, although he looked up at Ryan and gave him a small smile when he realised he was being watched.

“I'm fine,” he began, hand going up to run through his hair. Ryan caught his wrist before it could make contact.

“Don't mess your hair up,” he ordered, and Gavin blinked.

Ryan let him go after a rather awkward second.

“Jesus, chill the fuck out,” Michael said, so very helpfully.

Gavin bit his lip. “I'm trying. Sorry I'm not bloody Vin Diesel like you guys.”

“Nah, you're like that little fuck who follows him around in Die Hard 4 being all nerdy and then gets shot in the leg,” Michael said. “Don't get shot in the leg, okay, that would fuck things up.”

“No one's getting shot,” Ryan replied, “And that was Bruce Willis, not Vin Diesel. Gavin,” he added, and put his hands on his shoulders. And Jesus, he really _was_ nervous, he was shaking like a leaf. “Gavin, look at me.”

It took a moment for Gavin to lift his gaze and maintain eye contact.

“Calm. Down,” Ryan said. “Now listen. It's okay to be nervous, but the first rule of going undercover is _confidence_. If you think everyone is going to catch you out, then they will. Don't worry about people looking at you and realising you're not who you're meant to be. Assume that they're all fooled and they will be. Okay?”

“Okay,” Gavin replied.

“If I need you to do something, I'll tell you exactly what it is,” Ryan said. “So you don't need to worry about the plan. Just pretend you're at a normal function. If anything goes wrong, Michael will warn us and we'll have time to prepare. Okay?”

“Okay,” Gavin said again.

To Ryan's great relief, Michael remained silent, and after a moment Gavin's breathing slowed and the smile he gave was somewhat more genuine this time.

“Good,” Ryan said. He released his shoulders, then, after a moment's thought, reached out and took his hand instead. Gavin startled a bit, but the contact seemed to reassure him as they began to walk up to the house together.

Ryan tried very hard not to think of how long it had been since he even held someone else's hand. _It's not caring,_ he assured himself. _If he freaks out this whole plan goes to bust. It's a necessity, that's all._

They got in without a hassle, their invitations being checked and their names being crossed off against the guest list.

And then they were in.

The front doors of the mansion opened into an entrance hall. One side had been set up as a presentation space, an MC setting up a projector and screen where they would no doubt be treated to a self-eulogising Gworb powerpoint presentation. The rest of the area was open and empty, reasonably filled with men and women in formal dress, talking and drinking. A few waiters drifted back and forth carrying plates of refreshments on the tips of their fingers.

But most striking was the security. At every door was an armed guard, and there were stair cases at the back of the room leading to the upper storeys and personal areas of the house; every few minutes Ryan caught sight of another guard patrolling along the upper hallway. He had no doubt that they were being watched constantly.

“Now what?” Gavin whispered.

“Go get the free food,” Michael drawled in their ears.

Ryan scoffed. “Now we wait. The Corpirate's not here yet so we just have to blend in until he arrives. How many guards are on the upper levels, Michael?”

“One in each hallway, a rotating patrol. I'm not sure about the bedrooms and such, though, since there're no cams up on the third floor.”

“Our best bet is to get him alone if he goes upstairs to do something.” A plan was already forming in Ryan's mind. “If we spill something on him he'll have to go up and get changed. But we need to scout out the room first, see what the area's like.”

“Are we doing that now?” Gavin asked.

Ryan shook his head. “It isn't crowded enough here yet, we'll be spotted if we try and leave the hall. Better to wait until some more people arrive.”

Ryan realised that they were standing like fools in the middle of an empty space, seemingly talking to thin air. He tugged at Gavin's hand and led him over to the side of the room. With a wall at their back he felt a bit better, less exposed.

“What are we doing?” Gavin asked, a touch frantically.

“We're just two husbands talking together,” Ryan assured him, letting go of his hand. “No one will interrupt us if they think we're having our own conversation. And it will look better than just lingering around like we're waiting.”

Gavin nodded, nervously.

“Wait here,” Ryan said, and went to get them some drinks.

“Jesus Christ, Gav,” he heard Michael say as he beelined a waiter. “Even through the cameras you look awkward as fuck. Relax your shoulders or people will think you're about to have a stroke.” And then, after a moment. “Dude, don't put your hands in your pockets. This is like, a fucking formal function, people don't do pocket hands.”

Ryan returned with two flutes of champagne and handed one to Gavin. “We're going to play a game,” he announced.

“Um,” Gavin replied.

Ryan gestured at the people around them. “Do your thing. Tell me who's a real criminal and who's mostly just an investor.”

Gavin's eyes widened a bit. Then he shrugged, turning to gaze at the crowds around them, looking at various people intently.

“Lady in the green dress has something fishy in her purse,” he said.

“How can you tell?”

“She's not professional. If she is a proper crim she isn't a very good one. She keeps putting her hand over it like she's worried someone will look in or steal it. No one worries about getting their purse stolen at something like this.”

“Good. Who else?”

“The big guy over there. His shirt's too loose because he's let out the seams so he can normally wear it over a bulletproof vest. I see it on cams a lot; people usually want to know what sort of protection their marks have on before they go to hit them.”

“Ryan, you're smart as fuck,” Michael murmured, quietly enough that Gavin, now scanning the crowds, didn't quite pick it up.

Ryan smiled a little. Their 'game' had gotten Gavin to relax; he was now standing more at ease and their conversation was flowing naturally, ensuring that the two of them no longer stood out like a sore thumb.

A new cluster of people had just entered, and Gavin's gaze fell on one of them before his eyes suddenly widened in horror. “Oh, Jesus.”

“What?” Ryan asked, head whipping about in alarm.

“I know that guy,” Gavin said, pointing. “That guy with the blue tie. I... I worked for him once, a couple years ago. Oh my God he'll recognise me, he'll know I have no reason to be here-”

“Calm down,” Ryan said. Gavin was practically hiding behind him now, and Ryan grabbed his arms. “Don't do that, you'll just draw attention to yourself. If it was a few years ago I doubt he'll recognise you.”

“I think anyone who's ever worked with Gavin would recognise him on the spot,” Michael muttered.

“Ryan, he'll see me and know we're not supposed to be here and blow our cover,” Gavin said, a little frantically.

“No, he won't. You're just paranoid; you think we stand out a lot more than we actually do. Michael, how are those guards looking?” Ryan asked.

“Still patrolling but it's getting crowded outside, I think a lot more people are about to come in,” Michael replied. “Still no sign of the Corpirate.”

“Okay,” Ryan said. “Gavin, we're going to go upstairs and have a look around. Stop worrying about that guy, there's a hundred men in suits here and he's not going to suddenly pick you out of the crowd.”

“He might, given the size of your nose,” Michael added.

“Shut up Michael,” Gavin replied, but nodded.

Ryan put a hand on his back and guided him towards the staircase. “Stick close behind me and stay quiet.”

With Michael guiding them via the security cameras, it was relatively easy to avoid the guards; he could tell them when they were at the end of the hall and it was clear to move. Ryan was practised in getting about without being seen, and did so with little trouble. Gavin was another story, he seemed incapable of moving all that quietly and in his efforts to stay close to Ryan, kept bumping into his back. But they somehow managed to get up the stairs into the personal living area of the house.

“The guards are only on this second floor,” Michael said. “On the third floor there's only one camera, in the stair well – so that's a blind spot.”

“That's where the bedrooms are,” Ryan said. He nudged Gavin towards the stairs. “Let's go and look.”

They crept up the stairs. The top floor was dark and quiet, the faint sounds of the function down below drifting up muted and unintelligible.

“Stay here,” Ryan ordered. “Keep an eye on the stairs and tell me if anyone's coming up. It's up to you to let me know because Michael can't see us up here.”

Gavin nodded, pressing himself back against the wall where he had a clear view of the stairs, and Ryan moved off to check the bedrooms.

Several of them were obviously guest rooms, and once he did find the Corpirate's expansive suite he had a quick look around. There was a balcony and an ensuite bathroom leading off the room, but the minimalist furniture scheme meant there were not that many places for him to hide if he wanted to get the jump on him. He opened the closet door and frowned, wondering if he'd fit inside.

“Ryan, the Corpirate's just arrived.” Michael's voice in his ear startled him a little. He slammed the closet door shut.

“Is he coming up here?”

“I don't think so. Not yet, anyway.”

There was a roar from downstairs, a great cheer rising up as, it seemed, people welcomed his entrance into the hall.

“Yeah, he's not going up there yet. He's launching right into a speech,” Michael said.

“Alright,” Ryan replied. He turned for the door only to find Gavin standing there.

“Ryan, there's people coming upstairs,” Gavin said. “I think. Security was coming down the hall.”

“Shit.” Ryan glanced out into the hallway. Sure enough, he could hear the dull thud of boots against the thin carpet of the stairs, the snap and crackle of static on the security guards' walkie talkies. It was too late to leave; they were obviously here to do a sweep and there was no way they wouldn't get caught.

_Climb down the balcony_ , was Ryan's first, rather dramatic idea, that he discarded instantly.

“Ryan, what do we do,” Gavin whispered frantically.

A glorious, impulsive thought came to Ryan – and it was obvious, really, now he thought about it – and he grabbed Gavin's arm, tugging him towards one of the guest rooms.

“Follow my lead,” he hissed. He pushed Gavin up against the wall and the other man squirmed, hands coming up to shove ineffectually at Ryan's chest.

“What the bloody hell are you doing?” Gavin whispered. “Are we hiding? At least shut the damn door, we'll be caught-”

“We're going to be caught anyway,” Ryan replied. The footsteps coming down the corridor were getting louder. “So we don't need an escape. We need an excuse.” And then, when Gavin still stared up at him uncomprehendingly: “I'm going to make out with you now.”

“What the fuck,” said Michael, sounding a little strained.

Gavin goggled at him for a moment. But the guards were getting ever closer, and Ryan didn't have time to wait for him to react – leaning forward, he pressed their lips together.

For a moment Gavin stood frozen, stiff and unresponsive. Ryan adjusted his grip, holding him less roughly, one hand rising to gently angle his face better. After a few seconds, Gavin tentatively kissed back; stopped trying to push Ryan away in favour of loosely gripping the front of his shirt.

And then, a few moments in, Ryan realised to his horror that his heart rate was picking up, and there was a stirring of something like nervous jitters building in the pit of his stomach – which, _crap_ , because he had kissed people before for missions – before the mask – and since then there had been the occasional man or woman taken to bed in his downtime, fake names in fake places between jobs when no one had to know who he really was, but none of them -

None of them had even begun to excite him, at least not like this – but he couldn't pull back now, and before he could dwell on it any further, the guards entered the room, interrupting them noisily as they shoved the door open with a crash.

“No one is supposed to be up here!” one of them shouted. “What are you – oh.” He paused, as Ryan had expected he would, realising what they were doing. “Jesus fucking Christ, okay, keep it in your fucking pants why don't you. This area is off limits.”

“Sorry,” Ryan replied, pulling back – and it was easy for him to snap back into composure, even if his heart was still beating faster than he liked. Gavin stayed slumped back against the wall, breathless, not looking at any of them. His cheeks were flushed red, his breath coming too quickly, and for some God awful reason Ryan couldn't help feeling a little smug.

“Get out of here and don't let me see you up here again,” the guard ordered, grabbing Ryan's arm and roughly shoving him back towards the stairs.

Ryan nodded. “Right. Sorry,” he said, and the guard waved him off. As he had expected, the sheer awkwardness of the situation had saved their skins. He grabbed Gavin's hand and led him back down to the second level.

“You guys clear?” Michael asked, quietly. Ryan wondered how much he'd heard.

“Yeah,” he replied, as they descended back into the main hall. It was packed with people, even more crowded than before, but he paused before heading back into the fray, under the dark and quiet of the stairwell, adjusting his shirt and smoothing back his hair.

Gavin yanked his hand away and Ryan glanced down at him.

“Ryan...” Gavin started, still not looking at him.

“Fake husbands, remember?” Ryan asked. “It's a tried and tested practice. Sorry if I startled you, I did warn you I was going to do it.”

“I know,” Gavin replied, and opened his mouth as though to say more before stopping.

Ryan frowned a bit. Now that they were clear his heart rate was settling, his breathing slowing – and it had been a coincidence, he told himself. There was no way that Gavin – scrawny, nervous Gavin with his big nose and his stupid questions – could inspire any sort of effect in him. It had been the adrenaline and the nerves and the scale of the job – Edgar – and the fact that it had been a while. That was all.

Gavin stared at him for a long moment and Ryan suddenly felt very exposed, vulnerable and naked without the barrier of his mask. He worried at what Gavin might be seeing in his face.

“I'm going to the bathroom,” Gavin said abruptly, and turned away, marching off towards the rest room and leaving Ryan standing in silence.

 

* * *

 

 

Flynt Coal was heading out of the city, Geoff and Ray tailing him in the car. Or, at least, they had been tailing him, but there had been an accident on one of the roads and now literally everyone was stuck in traffic.

“This is fun,” Geoff commented, and Ray glanced over at him. Geoff grinned back.

“Beardo won't attack here. If Flynt runs he won't be able to chase, not with this traffic.”

“He could just blow the whole line of cars up,” Ray pointed out. “Wouldn't put it past Edgar.”

Geoff frowned. “Thanks for putting that thought in my head. Now I'm scared.”

“Geoff Ramsey is capable of fear?” Ray feigned shock, clapping a hand to his heart. “Oh my God. I'm going to tell everyone and your reputation will be ruined.”

“Shut up. I'd slot you first,” Geoff said, but there was a teasing note in his tone. Ray stuck his tongue out at him and Geoff stuck his out back before turning away to check his phone.

“The others haven't checked in in a bit.”

“Probably busy,” Ray said.

Geoff 'hmmm'ed.

There was a silence.

“What's stopping you?” Geoff asked.

Ray blinked a few times. “Um, what?”

“What's stopping you? From making up with Michael?” Geoff turned to him, something very earnest in his face, and suddenly Ray found it hard to look at him, taken aback by the level of genuine concern in the question.

“Did he do something I don't know about?” Geoff asked.

Ray shook his head. “No.”

“Then what is it? Come on, both of you are fucking miserable as dicks. Just kiss and make up already.”

The thought of kissing Michael was absolutely not what Ray needed in his head at the moment. Suddenly the urge to tell Geoff everything struck him, and he wasn't sure why – but before he could make up his mind either way, the traffic began to move again, and Flynt Coal's little car abruptly sprang away down a side street and they were hard pressed to make after him.

“There he goes,” Geoff said, revving the engine. They sped through several alleyways before, all of a sudden, a large black car swung out in front of Flynt Coal's path, forcing him to brake to a stop.

“There he is,” Geoff hissed, quickly pulling the car to a halt. “Come on, get out, get out,.”

They slid out of the car, guns at the ready, and ducked back behind the alley wall, watching as Beardo got out of the car.

The single head-and-shoulders photograph that Gavin had showed them really did not do the man justice. He was perhaps one of the most horrifying specimens of humanity that Ray had ever encountered, a mountain of a man who somehow managed to be very muscular and very overweight at the same time. His round face was fringed by an absolute monster of a beard.

_Wouldn't want to meet that in a dark alley in the middle of the night,_ Ray thought. And then promptly realised that was exactly what he was doing.

Beardo was not alone. Three other men got out of the car; inconspicuous little figures in black balaclavas. There was nowhere for Flynt Coal to run – and as they watched, Beardo waved his arm and the men all raised their guns. Flynt's car was peppered with shots, the windscreen shattering instantly.

“Jack,” Geoff whispered, into his earpiece. “Come around the other side of the alley and cut Beardo off. We'll pen him in. There's four with him.”

“Got it,” Jack replied.

“Ray, I'll provide cover fire, you take down Beardo,” Geoff ordered.

Ray nodded, and Geoff counted down on his fingers before waving a hand.

Things went wrong almost instantly.

By some miracle, it seemed Flynt Coal had not been killed in the initial onslaught of fire, and managed to rev his car forward, slamming into Beardo and knocking him to the ground. This meant that Ray's shot, which had been perfectly aimed, misfired, throwing him off for a second.

“Fuck,” Geoff shouted, and managed to take down two of the men only to grab Ray and yank him back against the wall as a hail of bullets suddenly rained down from above.

Ray twisted his head up to see where the shots were coming from. His heart dropped as he realised that there were a good number of men up on the buildings lining the alley, shooting down at them.

And there were too many men – far too many for just taking out Flynt Coal, a single target. That only meant one thing.

It was a trap.

“Hello, Geoff,” Beardo shouted, getting to his feet. He looked none the worse for wear for having just been hit by a car, and Ray fancied that the layers of blubber and muscle had likely caused him to rebound without injury. It was a somewhat horrifying thought.

“Edgar sends his regards,” Beardo continued, and Ray glanced at Geoff. His jaw was clenched tightly, gun still raised to point at the man – but they were being aimed at from all directions and there was little doubt that if they tried anything they'd be shot on the spot by the men up above.

“We figured you'd come after me if I popped up here,” Beardo continued. “You've done a fucking good job taking us down so far, haven't you? But not any more. You might have been on our tail but we've been on yours too. Lead you right here, just as planned.”

“Tell your bitch ass boss that he can come out here and confront me in person, then,” Geoff snarled, and Beardo laughed, his great gut wobbling at the motion.

“Oh, I'm afraid he's a little busy at the moment. You'll see him soon enough, though – you're right, he does want to kill you himself.” His eyes flickered to Ray. “Your cute little friend, on the other hand...”

Geoff's eyes darted to Ray in alarm as Beardo opened his mouth, undoubtedly about to give the order to shoot.

But before he could, his head exploded.

Just burst apart like a rotten tomato.

Ray flinched at the sudden, loud crack of the gunshot. Beardo's body crumpled to the floor, revealing Jack behind him, leaning out the window of his car, rifle in hand.

There was a moment of silence as everyone stood, stunned.

Then the gunshots rang out again, and Ray started to duck back behind the remains of Flynt's car, when suddenly Geoff was tackling him to the ground. His head hit the pavement hard, the breath knocked out of him, his first thought _what the fuck is he doing_.

Then there was an explosion.

A sudden burst of heat and a deafening bang that made Ray's ears ring. He flinched, pressing back against the pavement, Geoff's weight bearing down on him and shielding him from most of the blast.

_A hand grenade,_ he registered dimly – Michael used them all the time when he could – and it was to his great relief that he realised the blast had been small, and the thrower's aim bad enough that the force of Geoff's tackle had taken them almost entirely out of rage.

Ray's head hurt from the impact, but he was fine. When he tried to sit up, however, he realised Geoff was a dead weight on top of him – and then, with dawning horror, he noticed the blood.

“Get in!” Jack had pulled the car alongside them, leaning out the window, ducking from the hail of gunfire – but when his eyes landed on Geoff, they widened in horror. “Oh fuck-”

“He's alive,” Ray blurted out, desperately. He scrambled to his feet, flinching as a shot whistled by his ear, and yanked open the car door. Jack got out to help him, and they managed to haul Geoff out into the back seat.

“Get in,” Jack snapped, shoving Ray into the back after Geoff. They were barely in the car than he took off, reversing out of the alley before doing a three point turn and heading off down the street. But the men were after them still – there had to be about a dozen of them, already jumping into their own vehicles, cars and motorcycles or just manoeuvring the roofs on foot – and there was a popping screech as two of the car's tires were shot out, sending them skidding sideways.

“Fuck,” Jack spat – Ray reached out to steady the unconscious Geoff as they skidded a corner, nearly spinning out of control. He wasn't one to panic easily but Geoff was bleeding all over his hands as he tried to find the actual source of the wounds – there was too much blood and he couldn't tell if they were serious or superficial – an uncharacteristic fear was settling in him.

“We need to get out,” Ray spoke up. “We need to hide and wait for them to leave.”

“We need to get Geoff to a fucking hospital,” Jack replied, hands tightening on the wheel.

“We'll all be killed if we don't stop somewhere now,” Ray said, forcing calm into his tone.

Jack glared at him in the rear view mirror. They had pulled away from their pursuers a little by now, through the force of their head start, and this area of town was somewhat desolate, factories and warehouses making up the main portion of its infrastructure. After a few moments he pulled the car to the side of the road.

Jack got out and opened the back door. He lifted Geoff into his arms with a grunt. Ray made as though to help but Jack shook him off.

“Let's go quickly before they catch up,” he said brusquely, and Ray nodded, hurrying after him as they made their way along the street.

After a few moments Ray ran ahead, checking out the buildings around them - and found, to his relief, an empty and mostly derelict storage shed that he could easily kick in the door of.

“In here,” he called. Jack entered quickly and laid Geoff down, while Ray busied himself with stacking crates and dragging shelves against the broken door. There were no windows, and only the barest sliver of light leaked in through the crack of the door, leaving them mostly in shadow.

Thus holed up, he took a moment to breathe, to take in their situation.

They were stuck. Edgar was after them, his men outside, Geoff bleeding out on the floor next to them – and all they could do was wait.

 

* * *

 

 

“Gavin just took out his fucking earpiece,” Michael said.

Ryan stirred from where he'd been leaning against the wall, trying to plan out their next move. “What?”

“Yeah, I can't hear him any more,” Michael said. “Maybe he popped a boner when you kissed him and he doesn't want us to hear him jerking off.”

Ryan gave a wry smile at the thought. It was much more likely that that Gavin was freaking out, trying to compose himself after what had happened and probably embarrassed to have Michael right there in his ear.

“There's nowhere he can go from the bathroom,” Ryan replied. “He has to come out.”

“Hmm,” Michael replied, and there was a pause.

“So was he a good kisser?” Michael asked then. “Nose didn't get in the way?”

“Why do you want to know?” Ryan replied.

He heard Michael huff on the other end of the line. “Just fucking curious.”

“I startled him. No one's a good kisser when they're startled.”

“So he was a bad kisser then.”

“Not saying that,” Ryan said. “Kiss him yourself and you can find out.”

That shut Michael up. For a little while, at least, then he was back with the questions – honest curiosity lacing his tone.

“Are you with someone, Ryan?”

“What does that mean?” Ryan replied, though he knew perfectly well. Questions hitting this close to his personal life were not something he'd had to deal with in a while, and it was honestly making him a touch uncomfortable.

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

“Do you honestly think I have the time, the motivation or the lifestyle for a girlfriend right now?” Ryan asked, drily. “You know what it's like in this business, Michael. You can't date people outside of it or they get dragged into crap. And you can't date people _inside_ of it, not unless you trust them with your life.”

“A boyfriend, then?” Michael prompted.

“No, for the same reason.”

“So in the whole seven years you've had that mask on you've never found _anyone_ you can trust?” Michael asked. “That's kinda fucking sad.”

Except it came out a little too earnest, a little too surprised – like it was sad in the sense of loneliness rather than lameness, and Ryan grit his teeth – a wave of annoyance rising up because _it wasn't like that_ – it hadn't been a lonely seven years, not the whole time anyway – there had been the team, once, until Edgar and everything that happened after that. He'd still never shown them his face, though. Had been close to it. Probably would have, if things hadn't gone down the way they did.

When in doubt, go for the creep factor. Dropping into his coldest, most dangerous voice, he said, “You know nothing about me, and you should know better than to pry.”

Michael snorted, but fell silent, so Ryan figured he must be at least a little intimidated.

Ryan should have dropped it there. He should have damn well dropped it there, but for some reason – for some terrible, niggling, anxious reason that he refused to believe had anything to do with how his heart rate had picked up when he kissed Gavin – he felt the need to assure Michael, and _himself_ , that his views on this sort of thing had very much remained unchanged.

“As I've mentioned countless times, that sort of relationship with someone you work with is ill advised,” he said. “It becomes a liability. They can be used against you – or if something happens, if you break up – then you've got an enemy in a dangerous business who knows all your weak points.”

“That's a load of bullshit,” Michael replied. “And you know it. Look at Jack and Geoff. He's lorded over Achievement City for how long? With Jack beside him the whole time.”

“And one day that might bite him in the ass.”

“Bullshit,” Michael repeated. “Jack's part of what makes him so powerful.”

“Do you really believe that or do you just want to prove me wrong?”

“I'm saying you can have your own fucking opinion but don't shit on everyone else. They're a partnership that works. _Really_ well. It's about trust, man, it... it makes you stronger, not weaker. That sounded sappy as shit but you know what I mean.”

“It's one thing to work with someone but another to take it to the next level when you need to _keep_ working by them, side by side every day with your life on the line. Are you saying you'd date Ray? You'd legitimately trust yourself to take it up a notch with him when you need to work together?”

The horrified silence on the other end of the line made Ryan's stomach drop. Why, why, fucking _why had he said that_ , it was bad enough he'd messed around in their relationships already. He'd been angry, that's all, he should have kept his fucking mouth shut.

Fortunately, Michael's desire to prove him wrong proved to be stronger than any confusion over his feelings for Ray.

“Sure,” he said, though his voice was very stiff. “Who the fuck cares. I'd date him. And we'd be, like, ten times more awesome for it.”

And then, when Ryan didn't respond, a rather more nervous sounding, “Uhh, I was joking, by the way, I don't actually want to date him.”

_Oh my God,_ Ryan thought.  _I'm actually dealing with a bunch of teenagers._

He was spared from carrying on the awkward conversation as Gavin returned, at that moment, from the bathroom, reaching up to put his earpiece back in.

“Fucking finally. Were you constipated or something?” Michael demanded.

Gavin shook his head. He glanced at Ryan, then looked away very quickly, and Ryan noticed that his lips were very red, as though he'd been scrubbing or wiping at them. Part of him felt a little offended at that, but he shoved it away.

  
“If you're quite done,” he said, “Let's get out there and see what's happening.”

 

* * *

 

 

The Corpirate looked like a total douche, bald as an egg with a handlebar moustache. He dressed like one, too. Ryan had no idea why anyone would be compelled to wear an eyepatch over one eye and a monocle over the other. Maybe he had bad eyesight but had lost the other in a fight? But that's what fucking contact lens were for.

He had just finished some sort of speech, complete with keynote, when they slipped back into the hall, and everyone was applauding the impending destruction of the Amazon rainforest.

“He's gonna mingle,” Michael said. “If you wanna dump something on him, here's your chance.”

“Okay,” Ryan said. “Gavin, I need you to spill a drink on him.”

Gavin squeaked. “Why me?”

“Because I need to go up and hide in his room to get him when he comes in,” Ryan explained, patiently. “Just wait until a waiter goes up to him and then subtly bump into them.”

“You're always fucking tripping over your own feet anyway, it should hardly be a challenge,” Michael pointed out.

Gavin looked very, very concerned. But he nodded, tentatively. “Okay.”

“Good,” Ryan said, and reached out to press his shoulder. Gavin flinched at his touch and Ryan drew back a bit awkwardly before turning and heading back to the stairs.

“You've messed with his head, man,” Michael murmured. “He thinks you're gonna turn and plant another one on him at any minute.”

“Shut up, I do not,” Gavin replied. “I'm just nervous is all, I bloody well didn't think I'd have to go up to the tosser.”

“You'll be fine, just apologise and head off quickly,” Ryan said. “Now shh, I need Michael to navigate me back upstairs.”

He got up without a problem. The guards had left the top floor by now, having done their routine sweep, and he slipped into the bedroom and hid in the closet.

It was cramped in there, dark and stuffy and low enough that he had to hunch his back painfully, but he'd waited in worse positions for longer. He could hear Gavin breathing in his ear, Michael humming impatiently now and then, and for some reason it was almost comforting – knowing that he had a crew out there instead of waiting in silence and alone like he had so many times before.

_Stop it,_ he chided himself,  _stop thinking like that._

_They're all dead meat in the end anyway, if Edgar has his way._

The thought struck him out of nowhere – a possibility he hadn't considered. That they might fail, that Edgar might get them – and the mental image of Gavin dead and crumpled on the floor, of Ray beside him, of Michael silenced forever – it made a sudden cold feeling spread through his stomach and-

_Fuck, fuck, no, you're in too deep, who the fuck cares – there'll be casualties, there's always casualties, they're a means to an end and you don't care, you_ shouldn't  _care-_

“Waiter coming right up to him, Gavin, here's your chance,” Michael muttered.

“Bloody hell,” Gavin huffed out. Moments later there was a crash, a curse, a babbled apology from his end, followed by hurried footsteps and heavy breathing.

“You get him?” Ryan asked, quietly.

“Yes,” Gavin replied, his voice shaking a little. “I'm off to hide in the bathroom now.”

“It worked,” Michael crowed. “He's storming upstairs to get changed. It's all up to you Ryan.”

And this – this was what he was good at. This he could do. A routine kill, just as he'd done a hundred times before. He waited until he heard the creak of the bedroom door, some huffed mutterings and the rustle of clothing-

He opened the closet door a crack. Saw the back of the Corpirate's bald pate, and fired.

It missed.

The hinges of the closet door were loose and at the last minute it swung back, trying to close, knocking him in the arm and throwing his aim off. The Corpirate ducked away as the – thankfully, silenced – shot cracked by his head to break a mirror on the far side of the room.

“What the fuck,” he roared, and whirled around. Ryan leaped out of the closet, gun rising to shoot again, but the Corpirate moved surprisingly fast for such a large man with only one, nearsighted eye, kicking the gun clean out of his hand before punching him in the stomach.

Ryan doubled over, coughing, but reached out and tackled the Corpirate to the ground as he made to move for the gun.

And okay, the guy was strong as _fuck_ for someone whose name implied a desk job; he had apparently been a wrestler of some sort in a past life because Ryan was hard pressed to pin him down – and suddenly, with a roar, the Corpirate grabbed him and _lifted him_ , rolling over and slamming him against the ground hard enough to daze him.

“Ryan, what's going on?” Michael demanded.

Ryan ignored him. The Corpirate was going for the gun again and Ryan swung a leg out, tripping him. He ripped off his tie and lunged forward to garrotte him, noosing it around the large man's neck and pulling it taut as hard as he could, twisting.

With a gurgling gasp the Corpirate stumbled backwards, trying to slam Ryan against the wall. Ryan continued to pull, but the man was large and strong and he found himself being forced backwards.

They crashed through the flimsy balcony door and out onto the balcony itself, as the Corpirate backed Ryan against the rail. The metal hit his spine painfully but he pulled tighter, gritting his teeth with the strain. The large man's eyes were beginning to bulge as he let out choking little whines-

And then he jerked his body forward, elbow moving back to knee Ryan in the stomach again.

Ryan's grip on the tie slackened momentarily as he gasped – but it was enough for the Corpirate to pull free. To whirl around and punch Ryan hard, aiming for the face – Ryan turned at the last second and the blow hit him in the side of the head instead, square on the ear.

There was a large, high-pitched scream of white noise from the earpiece that sent a burst of pain through his eardrums, ringing dizzy-painful in his head before it faded into nothing but static and he had to scramble to get it out before it could hurt him further. The Corpirate drew a leg back to kick and Ryan grabbed it, tripping him up and sending him crashing to the floor of the balcony.

Ryan rolled on top of him and punched him in the face, once, twice, three times – his monocle smashed and broken now – before getting his hands around his throat and _squeezing_. The Corpirate thrashed, hands coming up to grip and pull at Ryan's wrists – but adrenaline leant him strength and he dug his thumbs in, pressing deeper and harder-

And that red rage filled him, the same way it had when he killed Clarence, when he saw Thaddeus the Red – the rage he knew would overtake him if he ever came face to face with Edgar again – he hated the term _mad mercenary_ because it implied a lack of control, but this feeling – the horrible bloodlust that rose up in him at the thought of Edgar or any of his cronies – that was madness of a sort, he knew, and he hated what it was doing to him but he couldn't _stop_. Edgar had to go down, so the Corpirate had to go down – and when he finally fell still, head falling back, eyes blank and empty and tongue lolling out as the breath and the life were choked from his body-

Ryan felt odd. Dirty almost, and vaguely numb.

But the desire for vengeance burned low and hot in his gut, and he kicked the body before rising.

He half expected Michael's voice in his ear, but then recalled that his earpiece was broken. He would just have to be extra careful about leaving then, he reasoned.

Except, when he shut the door carefully, creeping out onto the landing, he was surprised to find that all the guards were gone. And something was happening downstairs, he could hear raised voices and shouting and then a terrible, abrupt silence.

A sudden unease filled him, a feeling that something was very wrong. He lingered on the second floor, straining to hear.

Someone bumped into his back and he whirled around, grabbing at them, but it was Gavin who his hands closed around.

“ _Ryan_ ,” Gavin gasped – and something was definitely wrong if he'd managed to slip out, if he'd risked running up here and the guards seeing him – he looked like he was about to be sick.

“What's going on?” Ryan demanded. “I just killed him but-”

“Edgar's here.”

Ryan froze. He actually froze – his limbs grew cold and stiff and so did his heart and mind; everything seemed to still and slow to a stop. He had not expected this. He had not expected to confront Edgar so soon – not here, not now, and he hadn't prepared himself -

But as suddenly as he had frozen, that hot rage returned.

Gavin looked scared, but Ryan had neither the time nor patience to coddle him now. Edgar was here, so Ryan would have to kill him. Had sworn to, the next time they shared the same space. It was as simple as that.

“Stay here,” he ordered. “I need to check things out.”

He crept to the base of the stairs and peered out into the hall. Sure enough, there was Edgar, standing in front of the crowds, who were now surrounded by the guards, all pointing guns at them. There he was, the monster, trademark cow mask covering his face. He had several others with him – the duck that Geoff had mentioned before, as well as a massive, portly man in a pig mask.

“-have heard from a source that somewhere here among us is a traitor,” Edgar was saying. “And I will not rest until that person has been rooted out. Everyone here tonight will be interrogated. And when I find the one I am looking for, well, we'll have to make a show of it, won't we?”

A murmur of unease from the crowd.

Ryan slipped back upstairs. Gavin was standing exactly where he'd left him.

“Literally everyone at this function works for Edgar,” Ryan said.

“What?!"

“Maybe not directly,” Ryan replied. “But they're part of his rule. The way Geoff owns most of Achievement City. He must have the whole of Gworb or something.”

“We need to get out of here,” Gavin started, but Ryan cut him off.

“We're not leaving until Edgar is dead.”

“ _What_?!” Gavin stared at him, aghast. “That's not – damn it, Ryan, that's not the _plan_ , it's too dangerous – he has like fifty guards here-”

“I'm killing him. Here and now.”

“You're mad. You're going to get us both killed-”

He broke off with a squeak as Ryan grabbed the front of his shirt, propelling him back a few steps.

“If you want to get out of this alive, do exactly as I tell you,” he hissed. And he could hear it now – that dangerous, killer tone creeping into his voice – the one that he was infamous for, the one that struck fear into anyone who heard it.

Gavin stared up at him. Whatever he saw in Ryan's eyes made him startle back, afraid. Then he gave a jerking nod.

Ryan grabbed his arm, hard, and dragged him down the corridor to the cloakroom. He opened the door and shoved him inside.

“Give me your scarf,” he snapped, and after a second's hesitation Gavin took it off and handed it to him. Ryan pulled it around his own neck and then wrapped it around his face, tugging it up to cover his nose and mouth. On the off chance that something went wrong, and if no one here had put a name to his face yet – he could, maybe, still preserve some scraps of anonymity.

“Stay here,” he barked. “I'll come back for you when I'm done. Stay quiet.”

“Ryan-”

Ryan ignored him, heading for the door. He felt a tug on his arm and whirled around, pushing Gavin back so hard that he stumbled into the wall.

“I said _stay here_ ,” Ryan repeated, and turned away again. This time Gavin didn't follow him, and he shut the door behind him before pausing and taking a few deep breaths.

Edgar was crazy, and dangerous, and killing him would not be easy. There were no words to describe what the man was capable of, the things Ryan had seen him do in the past. It would not be as simple as hiding and shooting him.

But by God, he was going to do it, somehow, by some means – tonight.

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh this one took me a little longer than usual! Been busy with assignments. Hope you all enjoy it <3
> 
>  
> 
> **T/W: Reasonably detailed description of a panic attack towards the beginning.**

Michael had no idea what was going on.

Ryan's earpiece had cut out unexpectedly when the Corpirate punched him, and since then Michael had only been able to catch snatches of his conversation through Gavin's. When Edgar suddenly showed up, driving in with his posse seemingly out of nowhere, Michael had spilled his coffee, sworn a great deal, and ordered Gavin to _go find Ryan right the fuck now_. He'd assumed the two of them would coordinate with him to get out of the house.

But instead fucking Ryan had gone and shoved Gavin in a fucking broom closet or something, and then run off on his own, and now Michael had _no fucking idea what he was doing_ because he _couldn't fucking communicate with him._

“Gavin, where's he going?” he snapped – frantically trying to track Ryan on the screens in front of him, and keep tabs on Edgar at the same time – there was a bunch of movement going on in the main hall, the guards starting to separate people off into groups and lead them into different rooms.

Gavin didn't reply, his heavy, panicked breathing the only sound coming through the earpiece – and Michael flicked his gaze back to the cloakroom.

Gavin still hadn't moved from where Ryan had shoved him, his back pressed to the wall, but his hands had gone up to cover his face and he was hunched over slightly. Even through the low-definition, grainy feed of the security cams Michael could see his shoulders heaving.

“Gavin, tell me where the fuck Ryan is going. Why is he going back towards the hall? Gavin? _Gavin_?”

The volume of his shout made Gavin flinch.

“H-he's going to kill Edgar.” His voice was strained, almost choking out the words, and Michael frowned.

“He's fucking _what_? The idiot's going to get himself killed-”

He broke off as Gavin abruptly slid down the wall, crumpling to the ground and folding in on himself, knees drawn up to his chest, head down and buried in his arms, visibly shaking. He looked for all the world like he'd broken down crying, but he wasn't – Michael couldn't hear him sobbing – all he could hear was his _breathing_ , faster and faster and _gasping_ like he was suffocating and for all the noise he was making, no air was actually going into his lungs.

“Jesus Christ, Gav, chill out, this is really, really not the fucking time for-”

“Fuck,” Gavin croaked out. He tilted his head back against the wall, one trembling hand coming up to yank at his tie, pulling it loose and open before popping the first two buttons of his shirt and clutching at his chest. “I can't – I can't breathe, I-”

“Gavin?” Jesus fucking Christ, he looked like he was having a heart attack, and Michael realised with a terrible sinking feeling that this was not just the nervous jitters.

“Gav, what's going on?”

“I can't... I can't...”

He was still gulping for breath, working himself into a frenzy – and a horrid panic started to rise up in Michael's stomach as he suddenly recalled what had happened back in the forest. How his attempting to leave Gavin behind on his own had triggered some sort of freak out. He hadn't payed it much heed at the time – had figured he was just scared.

But this was something else entirely.

And the thing was – the thing was, Michael wasn't heartless, and he could be an asshole but he wasn't _cruel._ Gavin's cowardice and reluctance had gotten to him because simply being scared was no reason for someone in their line of work to refuse to go into the field at the expense of others.

But it was quickly becoming apparent that something was very, very wrong here, because Michael had seen cowards in his time – and they bailed, or hid, but they didn't _panic_. Not like this. They didn't break down so systematically.

No one had panic attacks like this for no reason.

Whatever was wrong, if Michael's suspicions were correct it had been set off by Ryan ditching him. And something like worry was growing in him now – because it was one thing to be annoyed by Gavin's idiocy or nerves or complaining, but another entirely to see him so genuinely vulnerable. And fuck, _fuck_ , this was like Ray all over again – it was not particularly in Michael's nature to go all mother-hen on people, but damn if he didn't feel concerned.

For a moment he froze, watching Gavin on the screen, wondering what the _fuck_ he was supposed to do now.

_Okay. Okay. There's nothing I can do for Ryan, I can't talk to him or help him. So I have to get Gavin out of there. Okay. I can do that._

He opened his mouth and then paused, unsure what to say – and hell, he'd never been good at this sort of thing, at comforting people or whatever. It really didn't help that since he'd put damn little effort into befriending Gavin, he now had no idea what would be the best thing to do or say to calm him down.

“Okay. Gavin, just... breathe? Fuck, that's really not helpful, is it. Okay listen just... stop freaking out, you're gonna be fine.”

Gavin gave no indication that he'd even heard him. His eyes were squeezed shut, still struggling for breath.

Michael bit his lip. He felt useless. Useless and awkward and like the worst fucking person in the world.

_Okay, Jones, just think about it. What's he scared of?_

The words came to him then, almost without thinking about it.

“Gavin,” he said, keeping his voice firm, controlled. “I'm not gonna leave you, okay? I'm not gonna leave you, I'm right here, we can talk through the earpiece. I'm gonna guide you out of there, alright?”

“Ryan... Ryan left-”

“Ryan is a fucking douchenozzle, we don't need him,” Michael said. “You and Ray have your team, X-Ray and Vav or whatever, right? Well you and I are a team as well now. Team.... team.... uh....” Fuck, he wasn't good at this. “Team Dynamite. Get it? Because I blow shit up.”

Gavin huffed out a laugh. A strained, somewhat hysterical laugh, but a laugh nonetheless.

“Too violent,” he said.

“Fine. Team _Nice_ Dynamite, is that fucking better?”

“That sounds bloody stupid.”

“Good, it's fucking fitting then. Okay, Team Nice Dynamite is in effect and I'd be as much of a prick as Ryan if I ditched my teammate, wouldn't I? So we have to like, work together and shit now.” He huffed. “I know, I'm as pleased about it as you are.”

Gavin was silent, and Michael frowned a bit.

“Gavin? Okay?”

“Okay Michael,” he replied, but his voice was oddly flat and Michael realised with a terrible sinking feeling that he had fucked things up more than he thought, because he could utter all the platitudes that he wanted but it was becoming glaringly obvious that _Gavin didn't trust him_.

His outburst after they returned from the camping trip was undoubtedly to blame. But he'd been angry, and hurt by Ray giving him the cold shoulder all of a sudden. He'd been an asshole, sure, but he hadn't seriously meant that he'd abandon Gavin if given the chance.

Well. Wasn't this coming back to bite him in the ass now.

Gavin was still making little choking noises, like he was drowning or in pain. Michael glanced at the rest of the screens. The guards were still cordoning people off, Edgar was still in the main hall talking to his animals, and Michael couldn't find Ryan, but didn't have the time or inclination to search him out right now.

“Gavin, they're nowhere near you yet,” he said. “We have time, okay, they're not about to bust in there and get you. So just... breathe, okay? Like, follow my breathing or something. Let's both pretend to be Darth Vader for a bit.”

He started doing some deep, exaggerated breaths, and felt like a complete idiot for a few minutes. But he kept it up, and eventually Gavin caught on and started copying him.

“That's right,” Michael said. “In, out, just like that.”

He didn't realise his own heart had been racing until it started to calm down. All of a sudden he felt embarrassed, sheepish almost, even though he knew he was alone in the house and no one had been around to see him.

“Gavin, what's something you like? Something like peaceful and nice and shit.”

“Cats,” Gavin forced out, after a moment's thought.

For whatever reason, that almost made Michael smile. “Okay. Think about cats then. Don't worry about Edgar outside, or all the rest of them.”

A few silent moments passed as Gavin's breathing slowed and stilled.

“He's bloody ruined cows for me,” Gavin said finally, a hint of laughter in his tone. “Ducks and pigs too. If there's a damn cat out there I'll scream.”

“There's no cats,” Michael replied, checking the hall camera to make sure. “Your great animal love is safe.”

“Good,” Gavin said. He let out a shaky breath and then looked to where he knew the security camera was – eyes meeting Michael's through the screen – and forced something like a smile.

Michael found himself smiling back – a terrible, wide, goofy smile that was mostly relief but also, to his great chagrin, just a little bit _fond_.

 _Stop it,_ he thought, _just get him the fuck out of there._

“Okay, Gav,” he said. “I'm afraid we have to move now.”

The smile vanished. “I can't wait here for Ryan? You can just warn me if someone starts coming-”

“No. They're starting to move around and... oh, fuck, it looks like they're starting to search rooms to make sure they've got everyone. You need to get out of there _now_ , dude.” He heard Gavin's breathing start to pick up again and quickly added, “Hey, hey – cats, remember? Cats and Team Nice Dynamite. I'll get you out of there.”

“Okay,” Gavin said.

Michael looked at all the screens. Ryan was back in his vision, now – it looked like he'd climbed out a window and was now scaling the side of the building, working his way around to one of the balconies. Michael couldn't tell what he was planning to do, so he left him to it.

Jesus Christ there were a lot of screens. It was hard as fuck trying to work out who was where, which guards were approaching where Gavin was and which exits were safe and clear for him to use.

He hadn't realised that it took this much work trying to guide people through the cams, and had to grudgingly admit to himself that Gavin's job was a lot harder than he'd initially thought.

“Okay. The corridor outside the cloakroom is clear. I'm gonna try and get you out a window and down the, uh, down the fire escape.”

Gavin mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like “Fuck my life.” But he nodded, and got to his feet, then paused, bracing himself against the wall.

“You okay?” Michael asked.

“Kind of dizzy,” Gavin replied.

“It's just adrenaline. Come on, move quickly before the guards start heading up to the next floor. Get out of that room and head to the second door on the left, it opens into a library.”

Gavin nodded, and cautiously moved to the door, peeking out, before he exited. Michael had to fumble to switch the screen he was looking at as Gavin crossed from one camera's range to another.

“Michael, where are the guards?” Gavin asked, as he hurried towards the library.

“They're, uh – oh, crap.” He hadn't kept an eye on the rest of the screens, and shit, _shit he was bad at this_. “Hurry the fuck up they're on their way upstairs-”

Too late. Michael had messed up, and the guards ascended the staircase right in time to see Gavin cross into the corridor.

“Freeze!” one of them hollered, gun rising to point at him. He was shouting loudly enough that Michael could hear him through Gavin's earpiece. “What the fuck are you doing out here?”

Gavin let out an alarmed squeak, putting his hands in the air right away.

“Lie, lie,” Michael whispered furiously. “Say you were in the bathroom when Edgar arrived and you were confused and didn't know what was going on.”

“I- I was in the loo and then I didn't know what was happening and I wasn't sure where I was meant to be or-”

“What a fucking idiot.” The guard stepped forward and grabbed Gavin's arm roughly. “Come with us.”

Michael leaned back in his chair, rubbing his hands over his face as he watched Gavin get escorted to one of the rooms. The guests had been split off into little groups and were being interrogated by the people Edgar had brought with him; showing ID, showing their invitations, getting cross-examined about who they were.

Gavin was a shit liar, that much was obvious, and Michael didn't know how he was going to get him out of this.

A horrible sense of guilt was building in the pit of his stomach. Because now that Ryan had pissed off to do his own thing, suddenly all the responsibility was on Michael to keep Gavin safe, to get him out – and those damn protective instincts were rising up again.

“Stay calm,” he whispered, “if they ask you anything I'll tell you what to say.”

Gavin made no response for fear of the guards overhearing, and all Michael could do was watch as he was taken to one of the rooms on the second floor; a drawing room where a dozen other guests sat in silence. They were being overseen by the figure in the duck mask, and four guards had guns trained on them.

“Got another one for you,” the guard holding Gavin said, shoving him in with the rest before leaving. The duck glanced at him before continuing to, from what Michael could tell, aggressively question one of the other attendees.

Gavin sat down with the others and made himself as small as possible, hands folded in his lap, head down and not looking at anyone. Michael frantically tried to work out what he could do. Maybe Ryan would do something, cause a distraction somehow. Or maybe there was some way they could, he didn't know, light the whole house on fire or something.

Before anything could happen, he realised that one of the other guests was staring at Gavin intently. And then, with dawning horror, he recognised it as the man in the blue tie that Gavin had pointed out to them before; the man he had worked for in the past who knew he was a data analyst and nothing to do with Gworb.

“Oh fuck, Gavin-”

Michael's warning broke off as the man jumped to his feet suddenly, jabbing a finger in Gavin's direction.

“That's him! That's him! That's the guy you're looking for, you can let the rest of us go – it's _him_!”

Michael saw Gavin snap upright. Saw his eyes widen in terror as everyone in the room turned to stare at him.

The duck stepped forward, saying something that Michael couldn't make out – and the man continued screeching.

“I know that guy, he shouldn't be here – his name's Gavin Free, he's like, a hacker or some shit – he spies on people and stuff, he must be the one you're looking for, there's no other reason he'd be here-”

It was then that Michael noticed it; the fire extinguisher on the wall behind Gavin. And it was a terrible plan, he knew, but they had fuck all else at their disposal.

“Gavin, grab that fire extinguisher and set it off; there's only one guard at the door, if you're fast you can get out of there. Do it _now_!”

To his credit, Gavin obeyed instantly. He yanked the extinguisher out of the wall, fumbling slightly, and for a moment Michael feared he wouldn't know how to use it, would set it off in his own face – but he appeared to know what he was doing (it seemed, for whatever insane reason, he had used one before) – and soon a stream of compressed CO2 was shooting out in the direction of the guard at the door. Surprised, he stumbled back, the others in the room lurching back in surprise, and Gavin _bolted_ for it, shouldering the guard aside and running out into the corridor.

Michael's heart pounded as he realised that Gavin's life was literally in his hands here and he had to get his shit together and guide him out. Frantically, his eyes scanned the screens, trying to make sense of where there were no guards.

“Run down the stairs, run down the stairs,” he ordered, and Gavin obeyed, still clutching the extinguisher as he pelted for the ground storey.

“Michael, Michael, are they after me?” he demanded.

“I can't see, the room's full of fucking white mist and shit,” Michael replied. “Yes – the guards are after you. The duck is calling someone else in.”

Gavin had reached the bottom floor. “Should I hide? Michael?”

“Fucking – hide for a minute,” Michael said. “Look – just leading off the hall there's a projector room. There's no one in there. But watch out, there's still a guard in the hall.”

Gavin's breathing was heavy in his ear as he crept across the room.

“He's looking out the window,” Michael said, “You can get behind him.”

He could barely breathe as he watched Gavin sneak across the hall behind the guard's back. When he finally entered the projector room, shutting the door quietly behind him, Michael slumped back in his chair, heart pounding.

“Hide under the table,” he said. “While I see where everyone else is at.”

Gavin obeyed, Michael watching on the screen as he climbed under the desk in the room and disappeared from sight.

“Oh my God,” Gavin gasped. “Oh my bloody bollocking God-”

“You're fine, dude, you're fine.” Michael wasn't sure if he was reassuring Gavin or himself. He heard Gavin let out a soft sigh.

“Where's Ryan?” he asked.

Shit. Michael had completely forgotten about him. He turned to look at the rest of the screens.

The duck, it seemed, had called in the rest of Edgar's posse to let them know that they had their traitor and he was on the loose. There were now guards and assorted animals striding the halls, kicking in the door of every room they came across. Luckily most of them were still on the second storey.

As for Edgar – he was nowhere to be seen. Michael wished he'd kept a damn eye on him, but it was too late for that now. He figured he was up on the third floor, where there were no cameras, and thus out of his range of sight. Since he couldn't find Ryan either, he assumed he was up there as well.

“Can't see him, he must be up on the top storey,” he replied.

“Michael,” Gavin said after a minute. “That duck had teeth.”

“I know.”

“Ducks aren't supposed to have teeth."

“That is true. “

“It was _weird_ , Michael.”

“I know. Don't worry about it. We're almost out now.”

A few more moments of silence.

“I'm sorry,” Gavin stuttered out, finally.

Michael frowned, confused as to what he was going on about. “What're you sorry for?”

“Well, I buggered it all, didn't I? Didn't look into it closely enough or I might have realised that Edgar was coming tonight and we wouldn't have-”

“Dude,” Michael cut in. “I'm pretty sure he'd have covered his tracks completely. There was no way we could have known about this. You didn't fuck it up.”

“You're not mad at me?”

There was honest confusion in Gavin's tone, and Michael opened his mouth, then hesitated.

Of course, he realised. Of course Gavin would think he was being blamed for this after Michael had gotten mad at him both times before for the mission stuff ups. And, truth be told, at any other time he probably would have freaked out at him now as well.

But being responsible for someone’s life – seeing them so open and scared and starting to realise that maybe – and he barely wanted to think about it, but it was becoming a more and more likely possibility – maybe something was _seriously wrong_ , maybe there was a very good reason for him to flip out when it came to going into the field – it was becoming clear to him that Gavin wasn't just an incompetent wimp. He was a skilled worker with a job that Michael was barely managing to do himself, and even then badly, who for whatever reason had easily triggered abandonment issues.

It would be a dick move to pin the blame for this one on him.

“Dude,” Michael repeated. “It's not your fault. If I blame anyone it's Ryan for running off and fucking over our whole team thing. You're fine, don't worry about it.”

Another disbelieving pause.

“I was...” Michael paused. He had never been good with apologies of this sort. “I might have been a bit of an asshole to you before,” he continued. “But I'm not mad at you right now and I'm not going to abandon you. Okay?”

“Got it,” Gavin replied, and sounded a tiny bit calmer. “Team Nice Dynamite!”

“Christ, it sounds so fucking stupid,” Michael replied, and Gavin gave a small giggle. Michael realised he was smiling again and quickly wiped it off his face.

Then he glanced at the screens again. “Oh, fuck. They're starting to come downstairs.”

“What do I do?”

There were two guards at the front door, and another in the car park. There would be no getting out that way. Michael scanned the layout of the house and realised that there was a back door leading out of the kitchens into a delivery area.

“You need to get to the kitchen,” he said. The guard in the hall was still there, staring out the window, and he would see any attempt to get past.

“Okay, Gav,” Michael said, “You need to knock the guy at the window the fuck out.”

“I don't think I can.”

“You absolutely can. You've still got that fire extinguisher, right?” Michael asked. “Big heavy metal thing like that, you wallop him in the back of the head and he'll go down like a bitch. He's got his back turned, just sneak up on him and you can do it.”

“I can't just creep past him?”

“No, Gav, he'll see you. Just fucking do it, come on. I promise it won't be that hard.”

“Bloody hell,” Gavin muttered, but crawled out from under the desk and made his way cautiously out of the room.

The guard was still staring out the window. It seemed as though it would be easy to just sneak up behind him, and Gavin did so.

Now, had Michael a greater knowledge of physics, he might have realised that as it was nighttime it was very dark outside, and very bright inside, and that this meant that the guard, though looking out the window, could actually see very little of the gardens and courtyard. What he did get was a very nice view of everything behind him, reflected against the dark glass.

Gavin was about a metre away from him when the guard took his chance and turned, swinging his gun around to smash Gavin across the jaw, knocking him to the floor.

“Fuck!” Michael cried, jumping up in his seat. “Get up, get up-”

He could hear Gavin whimpering, and a thud as the guard kicked him hard in the ribs. Gavin didn't get up, but somehow, scrambling about, he managed to turn on the fire extinguisher again and blast it right into the guard's face. The man reeled back under the onslaught of CO2, coughing and choking, effectively blinded, and Gavin clambered to his feet.

“Hit him!” Michael cried.

With a wild yell Gavin struck the guard in the side of the head with the extinguisher. He dropped like a stone and Gavin turned and ran, nearly tripping over his own feet. He stopped halfway down the hall, doubling over, and spat out a mouthful of what looked like blood.

“Fuck, are you okay?” Michael asked.

“ _No!_ ” Gavin choked out. “M'not bloody okay. Bit my tongue.”

He scrubbed at his eyes, which, it seemed, were irritated from the cloud of gas.

“You need to keep moving, the sound's brought a lot of them and they're coming your way,” Michael warned. “That duck is getting real fucking close, get in the kitchen right now.”

Gavin complied, and Michael was struggling to track the movements of the guards when a commotion on one of the other screens caught his attention.

A fight was going on on the stairs leading up to the third storey. As he watched, a body flew down the staircase to land hard on the floor. It was Ryan, Michael realised, with three guards in pursuit, one of them the pig. Edgar appeared at the top of the stairs, watching impassively as Ryan got to his feet and began to fight. It seemed whatever plan he'd attempted had failed and he was now stuck fighting Edgar's security.

And, as it were, getting his ass royally handed to him; he was outnumbered and from what Michael could tell, already injured, and as he watched the man went down under a hail of blows.

Michael hesitated. He could just leave Ryan the way Ryan had left Gavin; alone and to fend for himself.

The thought of doing that made him feel guilty, though, for no reason he could explain – he hadn't exactly become close to Ryan over the last week or so – and he shook his head, kicking himself.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered. “Gavin, Ryan's in trouble, we've got to help him.”

Gavin had by now reached the kitchens, which were empty, the staff all having been escorted out with the other guests.

“How can I be of any possible bloody help to him?” he cried.

For a moment Michael had absolutely no ideas. Coming up with plans of this sort, clever strategies and fixings – that was Ray, or Jack, or Ryan's forte. All Michael was good at was explosions.

 _Explosions_.

“Gav, Gav, are those gas ovens?” he demanded.

Gavin hurried over to check. “Yeah.”

“Fucking fantastic. Turn on all the gas, all of it, full blast.”

“Umm, what are we doing?"

“Just fucking do it, you'll see. We need to create a distraction, get Ryan out of there.”

Gavin obeyed, and Michael glanced at the rest of the screens and did a double take.

“Oh man, you'll have to hurry the fuck up because that duck is heading straight for the kitchen.”

Gavin _squeaked_ , hurrying across the kitchen workbenches to turn on all the gas. Michael watched in trepidation. That terrible, terrible duck was striding down the corridor, pausing to glance impassively at the felled guard.

“It's on! It's on!” Gavin cried. “It's giving me a bloody bad headache too.”

“Dude, don't breathe it in, you'll fucking kill your lungs. Now find a match, quickly.”

Gavin scrambled about, searching, but seemed to be coming up short.

“Where's that duck at Michael?” he asked, but before Michael could answer the kitchen doors swung open and the duck entered. For a moment Gavin looked up and froze, both of them standing stock still and staring at each other.

Then, as Michael watched, Gavin's hand closed around a box of matches.

“Gavin, go, go, run out that door and throw the match. _Do not fucking light it until you're outside_ ,” he snapped.

Gavin turned and _pelted_ , the duck jerking into motion as well. Barely was he out of the room than he lit the match – it took a few tries, his hands shaking – and tossed it back into the gas filled kitchen.

Michael literally _saw_ the air in the room ignite, a massive cloud of fire building up and up before the camera in the room shut off. The last thing he saw was the duck, stumbling back from the force of the blaze, surrounded by those hellish flames.

Then nothing, as the camera screen cut to black.

Michael promptly switched to another viewpoint; the outdoor camera. Two guards were patrolling but they had turned at the sudden burst of flame, and as Michael watched Gavin ran off into the car park and hid himself between the tightly packed vehicles. He was coughing and gasping but he wasn't, you know, screaming in agony like someone with third degree burns would be, so Michael figured he hadn't been got by the fire.

“I can't believe that worked,” Gavin choked out.

“Fucking science, man,” Michael replied, but couldn't help the wide grin of relief he gave. “That house is lighting up like a bitch.”

“I can see that,” Gavin said drily.

Sure enough, the fire was quickly spreading to other rooms, and as Michael watched everyone else seemed to realise what was going on. The guests chose that moment to make a break for it, and most of the guards too – and soon people were scrambling to evacuate.

He cut back to the screen Ryan had been on just in time to see the pig usher Edgar by the arm and start escorting him away. Ryan had taken advantage of the commotion to kick the feet out from under one of the men he was fighting, snatching their gun and belting them across the face. For a moment Ryan hesitated, as though to go after Edgar, but then he – thank God – seemed to think better of it. He turned towards the stairs only to realise the fire was cutting him off from that side, and climbed out the window instead.

Halfway through climbing down the drainpipe, it snapped and he fell to the ground hard. Michael winced, but Ryan got up and brushed himself down. Though he was favouring his left arm, he seemed mostly none the worse for wear, and he began to make his way back around to the cars.

“Thank fucking Christ that's over with,” Michael muttered. “Gavin, Ryan's coming your way.”

“A lot of people are coming my way,” Gavin said, nervously – indeed, most of the guests were flooding back to their cars.

“Go meet him then, he's just around the side of the house.”

The outdoor cams were starting to get grainy, most of the indoor ones useless now as the rooms were engulfed by smoke and flame.

Michael watched as Gavin jogged to meet Ryan – who, Michael noticed now, had his left arm hanging limp and useless by his side.

Barely had Gavin got within Ryan's reach than the mercenary lunged forward and grabbed his arm, shaking him violently.

“What the _fuck_ was that all about?!” Michael heard him demand. “Did you light that fire? Did you light that _fucking fire_?!”

“What?” Gavin screeched. “I – yes, you were in trouble and-”

“What the flying fuck were you _thinking_?! Edgar's split now, I fucking had him-”

Well that was a fine fucking sentiment!

“You were getting the shit kicked out of you!” Michael roared, resentment building up quickly now only to realise that Ryan couldn't hear him. “Gavin, give Ryan the earpiece.”

Gavin attempted to, but Ryan still had him in a vicelike grip. He tried to pull away and yelped.

“Ryan, you're hurting me!” he cried. And then, when he was ignored, “Michael wants to talk to you.”

Ryan finally let him go in favour of snatching the earpiece from him and jamming it into his own ear. “Was this your damn idea, Jones?” he asked.

“I have two words for you, Haywood. _Fuck_ and _you_. What the hell were you thinking abandoning Gavin like that?! If we hadn't lit that fire you would _both_ be dead because there was no way you were killing Edgar tonight, not surrounded by a hundred of his men. You were getting your ass handed to you on a fucking silver platter. Now get Gavin the fuck back home before both of you get got. We can discuss this later.”

For a moment Ryan just breathed heavily into the earpiece, speechless, it seemed, with ire. Michael glared at him on the screen. But a moment later, Ryan turned and strode off towards the car, Gavin trailing hesitantly after him, and soon enough they were on the road along with the rest of the vehicles fleeing the burning scene.

Michael searched half heartedly for Edgar on the cams, but he had taken off. He ripped off his headset, and slumped back in his chair, running his hands through his hair. As the adrenaline and stress drained away, he felt nothing but exhausted.

 _What a fucking night_.

 

* * *

 

Geoff was not going to die.

Jack established this quickly, sitting there in the dark, waiting with trepidation as they heard the shouts and footfalls of Edgar's men outside.

Geoff was not going to die. He was bleeding from several superficial wounds – a small piece of shrapnel was stuck in his side, but it had hit nothing major and wasn't even embedded that deeply. He was concussed for sure from the explosion, but he wasn't in a critical condition.

The rush of relief that came with this realisation was heady and exhausting, and Jack slumped back against the wall of the little shack, keeping one arm out and resting lightly on Geoff's shoulder. They'd made him as comfortable as possible, rolling their jackets up to place under his head, bandaging his wounds with strips of cloth as well as they could.

“He's..?” Ray trailed off, nervously, and Jack looked up, meeting his eyes in the dim light. He forced a smile.

“He'll be fine."

“Thank God.” Ray leaned back against the wall, looking down. “I don't... it happened so fast I didn't realise what was going on. I didn't know he'd jump on me and-”

“Ray, it's fine,” Jack reassured him. “I'm not about to blame you for Geoff attempting to save your life.”

Ray held his gaze a moment longer before looking away, and Jack could practically see the cogs turning in his head, trying to make sense of things.

“Why'd he do it?” Ray asked after a second. “That explosion could have been way bigger. He _could_ have died. Why do that to save me? I mean we... we barely know each other-”

“Geoff's not an asshole,” Jack replied. “We do a lot of crap but neither of us... we take care of our own. And you've proven yourself an ally, Ray. I'd have done the same, probably.”

“Really?” Ray glanced up at him, eyes wide with honest surprise, and Jack huffed out a laugh.

“Yeah, probably. Might've crushed you under my weight but-”

“Shut up,” Ray said, with something like a laugh. “You're not...”

They trailed off into a somewhat awkward silence.

“I can still hear 'em out there,” Ray said. He checked the clip of his gun for about the tenth time, a nervous habit, it seemed. “Doesn't sound like they'll let up any time soon. Even if it is just a concussion it doesn't pay to wait.”

Jack considered this. There was no way they could sneak out of there. Which meant they'd need outside help.

The idea struck him suddenly and he wondered why he'd not thought of it earlier.

“We have friends in this city,” he said. “I'll call one in, see if he can't get them off our back. We'll owe him one but if I ask nicely he'll probably even let us go over to his place, at least until Geoff wakes up.”

“Sounds good,” Ray said with a nod.

It took only a few minutes to make the call, and, as Jack had expected, Gus was annoyed at their disturbing him but more than willing to help out when he realised how serious the situation was. When Jack hung up and turned to Ray to let him know, it was to find him still staring speculatively at Geoff.

“How do you do it?” he asked quietly. “This can't be the first close call you've had. Doesn't it kill you – both of you – knowing you're in so much danger all the time?”

Jack shook his head. “We've been doing it so long now. I guess it just becomes a part of it. In any case, surely it's the same for you and Michael?”

“Well, yeah,” Ray said. “But we aren't...”

He trailed off a bit awkwardly and Jack couldn't help but smile.

Ray and Michael weren’t even that much younger than him, but damn if they didn't make him feel old as fuck. Watching their oblivious struggles, the tangle of their feelings play out in such a confused manner, was simultaneously frustrating and endearing.

It was quite obvious to Jack what was going on. He'd been speaking to Michael enough over the last few days to get the gist of it – but what Jack had noticed, that Michael couldn't see, was his somewhat glaring – and growing – crush on Ray. It reminded Jack enough of himself when he'd first started falling for Geoff that he was compelled to help; especially since he wasn't sure how he'd have reacted if Geoff had given him the cold shoulder back then the way Ray was doing to Michael now.

“I've been talking to Michael a bit,” he said, and Ray's head snapped up, staring at him questioningly.

“He's hurt and confused,” Jack continued. “And I imagine you are too.”

The look in Ray's eyes made Jack realise, abruptly, that Ray _knew_ – knew about Michael's feelings for him even if Michael himself didn't quite understand it yet. And shit, so _that_ was why things had gotten so awkward – _how did this even happen?_

“You know how he feels for you,” he said slowly, and Ray nodded.

“I don't know what to do,” he admitted.

“Oh Jesus Christ, how'd you find out?”

“Ryan told me, actually-”

“Fucking Ryan.” Jack actually buried his face in his hands at that. “What the fuck does he think he's playing at.”

“I asked him."

“He bangs on all the time about how much he hates personal relationships and getting close to people he works with – then he goes and stirs all _this_ up? What in the world did he _think_ would happen if he pointed it out to you before you were ready to accept it? What a fucking _moron_.”

Ray chuckled a little at that and Jack looked up with a slight grin.

“Well, I'm glad you can at least laugh about it."

“It's laugh or cry at this point,” Ray said. “I...” and he looked up at Jack with something unexpectedly vulnerable in his eyes. “Help me?”

Jack bit his lip. He could have at Geoff all he wanted for going unexpectedly soft on Gavin, but he couldn't deny that he himself cared about Michael and Ray. Perhaps more than he should have. He had always _liked_ them, sure – they were hard workers and fit well on the team to the point where, even before all this jazz with Edgar, he and Geoff had discussed the possibility of offering to employ them full time, though they'd never gotten around to giving it serious thought. But now he was becoming far more invested in their personal relationships than he had ever envisioned.

“Are you completely opposed to the idea of a relationship with him?” he asked. “You love him – don't deny it – but are you sure if it's completely, totally platonic?”

“I don't know,” Ray said.

“Well that's your starting point then,” Jack said. “There's no need to get worked up about it the way you have been. Michael's not going to push for anything yet when he barely even knows himself what he's feeling. Which means it's on you to test the waters. Get close to him again. See how you feel. Try things out and you'll see soon enough where you both stand. It really is as simple as that. You don't need to jump into anything.”

“I'm worried that everything will change.”

“Only if you let it,” Jack replied. “Trust me. Pushing him away, though – that's not doing either of you any favours.”

Ray looked considering for a moment. Then he nodded.

“I guess you're right. Thanks, Jack,” he added. “I don't normally... this isn't my field of expertise,” he said, with such a painfully unsure smile that it made Jack's heart ache. “But... it helps to talk.”

“Any time,” Jack replied.

Gunshots and shouting from outside made them both jump abruptly. Jack instinctively moved closer to Geoff, shielding him as Ray tried to peer through the crack of the door.

“Someone’s taking out Edgar's men,” he said. “What's left of them, anyway, it seems a lot of them have gone off to search elsewhere.”

Jack smiled, relief washing over him in waves.

“That'll be Gus,” he said.

 

* * *

 

Gus Sorola was an ex-cop turned mercenary who now mostly ran information through the city. He didn't do hired kills anymore, but back when he had – still living in Achievement City at the time – he'd been close to Geoff and Jack, working with them back when they were just setting out on their own.

His small, modest apartment in an unremarkable part of the city was probably the safest place for all of them right now, and it was here that they ended up holing up – Geoff on the guest bed, sleeping now but checked over for any glaring medical issues and coming up fine, wounds now clean and bandaged.

“Thank you,” Jack said, for about the hundredth time that day, as they finally wound up sat around Gus' dining room table, cracking open beers. It had been discovered that Ray, for whatever reason, did not drink, so he was nursing a glass of coke.

Gus flapped a hand at him. “I said don't worry about it,” he replied. “Owed you a favour anyway I think. But don't,” he added, as Jack opened his mouth again, “tell me what the fuck you lot are involved in now. I don't want to know. If it's dangerous enough that someone managed to take Geoff down this badly, I want no part in it.”

Jack nodded. “Sure.”

After a moment Gus' face softened a little.

“He'll be fine,” he said. “Don't let him sleep too long in case that head wound's worse than we thought. But he got lucky.” He looked over at Ray, who had been quiet, shy almost. “You all did,” he added. “I'll go look around outside, make sure none of them followed us back.”

He exited the room, leaving the two of them sitting in silence.

“We ought to check in with the others,” Jack said.

Ray nodded. Jack deliberately made no move to go for his phone, and after a moment Ray stirred and looked up at him.

“You gonna call them?” he asked, and Jack shook his head.

“No,” he said. “You've ignored Michael long enough. Time for you to get back in touch with him.”

Ray rolled his eyes, but gave a wry smile as he pulled his phone out. He still seemed uncharacteristically nervous as he took longer than necessary to scroll through his contacts before he began to type.

“What time should I tell them to expect us back?” he asked.

Jack considered this. “I'd rather not stay here any longer than necessary with Edgar's guys out there,” he said. “If we leave here in about an hour and drive without stopping... some time tomorrow morning.”

Ray nodded, typing industriously away. When he was finished they both sat, drinking in silence, a strange tension hanging over them that was only broken when Ray's phone vibrated again and they both jumped.

Ray read it, pulled a face, and tossed the phone over to Jack, who caught it deftly.

' _Hey. Things went to shit, Geoff's injured, but we killed Beardo. Back tomorrow morning_ ,' was what Ray had typed – Jack wasn't sure what he'd expected, something rather friendlier maybe. Then again it was probably better to save the apologies for when they met again in person.

' _Stuff got fucked up here too,'_ was Michael's reply, which made Jack frown. As he held the phone, two more texts came in – ' _Edgar showed up but we're all okay.'_ and ' _Ryan and Gavin on way back now, see you tomorrow'_.

“Edgar showed up,” Jack said, and Ray jolted in his seat.

“What?”

“Look,” Jack handed him the phone back. “Apparently they're all fine. Why the fuck didn't Gavin realise he'd be there?”

“Hey, he's not fucking psychic and Edgar's clever,” Ray snapped – jumping, as Jack had expected, to his Vav's defence. “Beardo said something weird. That we were on his trail but they were on ours too.”

“What does that mean?”

“Fuck if I know, but I don't like the sound of it. This was all a trap and I have a bad feeling the Corpirate's party was too. At least we all got out of it alive.” Ray's thumbs dithered over the phone screen for a moment as though he was contemplating typing more, but he ended up thinking better of it.

 

* * *

 

Geoff woke up about half an hour later. Jack was sitting by the bed when he did, rousing with an “oh fuck” and hand clapped to his head.

“Careful,” Jack said, reaching out to help him sit up.

“What happened?” Geoff asked, peered around. “Where the fuck are we?”

“We're at Gus'. You jumped on Ray when some guy chucked a grenade.”

“Is he okay?” Geoff asked, and Jack nodded.

“Fine. You, on the other hand...” He shook his head with a huff of breath. “Gave us a fucking scare for a bit.”

Geoff squinted at him as though waiting for something, and after a moment Jack laughed.

“I'm too relieved to be mad, dude,” he said. “Just glad you're both alright.” He leaned forward to pull the other man into a hug, then drawing back, moved to press a quick kiss to his lips.

Someone cleared their throat in the doorway and they turned to see Ray, hovering awkwardly.

“Uh, sorry to interrupt,” he began, but Geoff flapped a hand at him.

“Don't worry about it. Come in. You alright?”

“I'm fine,” Ray said, venturing in a few steps. “Um, thanks for saving my life.”

“It's fine,” Geoff replied. “Did you tell Jack what Beardo said before he shot him?”

Jack nodded. “He did.”

“It sounds like they've got eyes on us somehow,” Geoff said with a frown. “Or somehow they knew we would be there.”

“Yeah, about that,” Ray said. “Edgar showed up at the Corpirate's place. The others got out okay but it's worrying. So we're heading back as soon as possible.”

Geoff started in alarm. “Jesus, we'd better get moving right away.”

“I'll let Gus know,” Ray said, hurrying out.

“What put ants in his pants?” Geoff asked, as he clambered out of the bed and winced slightly, hand going to his wounded side. Jack stood to straighten the sheets after him.

“We talked a bit about Michael,” he replied, with a wry smile. “I convinced him to try and make up with him.”

“You reckon they'll end up... you know?”

“I hope so,” Jack replied, with a half-smile. “Either way I'll just be glad if they stop fighting.”

They paused in the room, not quite ready to exit yet.

“I told Ray you and I take care of our own,” Jack said after a minute. “But Geoff... it's not just anyone you'd jump on a bullet for. That could have been much worse.”

Geoff bit his lip, glancing away slightly. “You wouldn't have done the same?”

“I might've,” Jack said, running a hand through his hair. “And that's what worries me.”

“Ray's a good kid. I like him.”

“You'd literally give your life for him,” Jack said, slowly. “You've just proven that.” And then, a moment later and mostly out of curiosity, “If it was Ryan would you have done the same thing?”

“I... fuck, I don't know, probably not? It was the heat of the moment, man, I can't answer that.” And Geoff narrowed his eyes at him now. “If it was _Gavin_ and you out there, would you have done it for him?”

Jack honestly had no answer to that either, and Geoff raised his eyebrows at him.

“What's done is done,” Geoff said. “And we have more important things to worry about right now.”

Jack nodded agreement and they left the room.

 

* * *

 

It was a few hours later when Ryan and Gavin returned home. There'd been radio silence from them the entire way, and Michael had quickly given up watching. He'd sat about, high-strung and exhausted – it was well into the small hours of the morning by now.

When he heard the car door slam outside he moved to wait for them – and, when they entered the house, he froze, suddenly unsure how to act around them – Gavin in particular.

Back when he'd been guiding them out of the mansion, he'd felt close to the other man – the sort of closeness born from being stuck in a sucky situation with someone else. But now that they were back on their usual footing – face-to-face in the environment of the house – he had no idea where he stood.

The usual annoyance he used to feel at the sight of the man never popped up, though. Gavin looked _wrecked_ ; exhausted, suit dishevelled, one hand hugging his side and a massive bruise blooming on his jaw where the guard had hit him. It was hard to feel anything but sorry for him at the moment.

And Ryan – Ryan was emanating a cold fury that Michael had no idea what to make of; it was the sort of hostility he'd initially expected given Ryan's reputation, but it had never shown up until now.

He was angry enough himself, though.

“You okay, Gavin?” Michael asked.

Gavin glanced at him – and up close and in person now Michael could see how drained he looked, eyes tired and haunted. His lack of a reply was more worrying than anything he could have said.

“I think you need a drink,” Michael said. “Go sit in the kitchen.”

Gavin obeyed, dragging his feet, and leaving Michael and Ryan facing off.

“I had things under control,” Ryan said finally, voice tight and dark.

Michael clenched his fists. Normally he wouldn't hesitate to blow up at anyone who pissed him off, but he was wary of Ryan and managed to keep his voice low and quiet.

“You _left_ him,” Michael spat. “You left him and he had a fucking panic attack. You know he can't take care of himself. He nearly got got by that duck because you abandoned him to take off on some sort of vigilante mission. We had a fucking plan and you just threw it out the window without warning.”

“I had the chance to kill Edgar,” Ryan snapped. “So I took it.”

“We're _going_ to kill Edgar. Once we've taken down all his people first. _That's_ the fucking plan and you _fucked it up_. I didn't think you were that _stupid_.” He reached out to jab a finger at Ryan's chest, but gasped when Ryan caught his wrist, twisting it painfully.

“You know _nothing_ ,” Ryan hissed, leaning in close. “Like I've said a hundred times, _I don't work for you._ I knew what I was doing. If you hadn't decided to set the whole fucking house on fire I might have got him.”

“You weren't getting anything except the crap kicked out of you,” Michael replied through gritted teeth. “Let go of me or I'll kick you in the fucking dick.”

Ryan released his wrist and Michael snatched it back, rubbing it with his opposite hand. After a minute Ryan turned and stalked off towards the stairs. Michael noticed absently that one of his arms was still hanging by his side, painfully limp.

“Prick,” Michael muttered at his retreating back. “Fine, be like that, go off to suck your own dick you fucking loner.”

To be honest he was a little disappointed under his anger; he hadn't disliked Ryan before – in fact, he'd been pleasantly surprised by the other man's good humour (and though he'd never admit it, his not-unattractive looks). But now Ryan was off being a grade A asshole and Michael had no idea what had set it off.

 _Edgar_. There must be a reason Ryan was so hellbent on killing him.

Still. There was no reason for him to be such a dick. Mulling over this, Michael wandered into the kitchen where Gavin was sitting at the table – jacket slung over the back of his chair, tie strewn beside him – nursing a glass of some sort of liquor.

“Ryan's mad at us,” Gavin said, before Michael could say a word.

“Fuck Ryan,” Michael replied instantly. “I don't know what's got into him.”

Moving over to the fridge, he quickly located and took out a bag of frozen beans. He tossed it at Gavin, who completely failed to catch it, scrambling for a moment before it landed on the floor next to him with a wet _splat_. When he bent over to pick it up he winced, hand going to his side.

“What happened there?” Michael asked, moving over with a frown.

Gavin pressed the frozen bag against the bruise on his jaw and shook his head. “Guard kicked me in the ribs. It's just bruised.”

“Let me see,” Michael said, crouching next to him. He reached out to lift up Gavin's shirt but Gavin grabbed his arm, something like panic in his eyes.

“Don't,” he said – almost desperately, and Michael looked up at him. His frown deepened.

“Why not?”

“Just – don't. Please?” Gavin pushed him away and Michael shrugged, getting up and getting himself a drink before slumping down into a chair.

They sat in silence. Michael didn't know what to say. It was obvious Gavin was upset, still shaken over his narrow escape from the mansion. A huge part of Michael wanted to ask what was wrong. What had happened to make him so jumpy and terrified of being abandoned out in the field.

But they weren't nearly close enough for him to pry, and while he'd normally have had few qualms about asking nosey questions, he felt like Gavin was going to up and bolt any second even without his pushing.

So he sat, and they drank in silence, and when Michael started to get up to go to bed he noticed Gavin shoot him a look of alarm, obviously not wanting to be left alone, and Michael just sighed before going to pour himself another drink.

 

* * *

 

He woke face-down on the table with a crick in his neck to the sound of a car pulling up in the drive. For a moment he thought _fuck, no one kept a watch last night, someone might have come to attack us_ – but a glance out the window revealed it was the others returning.

“Fuck, what time is it?” he groaned, pulling his phone out to check – and sat bolt upright as he realised it was going on noon.

Gavin was nowhere to be seen, but when Michael walked out to the main room to get the door he saw him sitting up from where he'd been sprawled on the couch, also sleeping. His face looked terrible today, dark purple mottled across his jawline and deep bags under his eyes.

“Who is it?” he mumbled.

“The others are back,” Michael replied, moving to open the door.

He had honestly never been so relieved to see other people in his life. Truth be told, Edgar showing up out of the blue had freaked him out a little bit – not to mention being stuck in the house last night with nothing but a moping Gavin and a livid Ryan had been uncomfortable, to say the least.

When he saw Ray all the awkwardness of their parting slammed back into him, and for a moment he couldn't breathe.

But Ray stepped forward and gave him a small smile.

“Hey,” he said, almost shyly.

Michael blinked a few times. “Um, hi?”

“It's... good to see you,” Ray said. Sounding incredibly awkward.

Michael nodded slowly, but something like relief was blossoming in his stomach, and he slowly smiled back.

“You too,” he replied, and Ray grinned a little and reached out to press his arm. There were tiny cuts and bruises all over his arms and neck, and Michael frowned a bit – but Geoff, when he came up next to them, looked even worse.

“Jesus Christ, what happened to you guys?”

“We had a nasty encounter with some dudes who were expecting us,” Geoff replied. “And it sounds like you lot did too.”

“That's one way of putting it,” Michael said grimly, nodding at Jack as he turned to head back into the house.

He heard Ray give a sharp intake of breath behind him. “Jesus, what happened to Vav?”

“Hi Ray,” Gavin spoke up from the couch.

Geoff was by his side in an instant, grabbing his face and tilting it up to get a look at the bruise. Gavin squawked, flapping at him.

“Ow, ow, don't touch it!”

“How'd this happen?” Geoff demanded.

“Yeah, about that,” Michael spoke up. He glanced at the stairs but there was no sign of Ryan. “So Haywood went fucking insane and decided it would be a good idea to try and take down Edgar on his own. So he just ditched Gav and I had to get him out of there, except then his plan failed and Edgar's guys were beating on him so Gavin and I decided to set the house on fire as a distraction and now he's pissed at us because apparently he ' _had things under control_ ' – yeah fucking right – and we supposedly _ruined everything_. So he's like fucking sulking upstairs or something now, I don't even know.”

“Sounds messy as dicks,” Geoff said, finally letting go of Gavin, who curled in on himself on the couch and wrapped his arms around his chest.

“I think we need to hold a group meeting,” Jack spoke up. “Sort some things out. Work out how Edgar managed to trap us and what our next move should be.”

Geoff nodded. He ushered all of them in closer, leaning in to whisper: “If things turn sour we might have to cut Ryan loose. It's not that I don't trust him, just... well, I don't trust him. He's hot and cold and I don't know what he wants, so... everyone be on your guard, okay?”

They all nodded – and Gavin in particular did so with vehemence. When Michael glanced over at him he saw anger and betrayal flash across his face before he turned away. It seemed that now the shock and fear were wearing off, he wasn't going to take Ryan's abandonment lying down.

“In that case,” Geoff said, “Let's all rest up a bit. No one followed us here, I hope, so as long as we keep an eye out we can rest and regroup, and then get together for a team meeting in a little bit. Sound good?”

“Sounds great,” Michael said.

Geoff and Jack drifted out, leaving the three lads standing about.

“I'm heading downstairs,” Gavin murmured, getting up off the couch.

Ray reached out and caught at his arm. “Hey,” he began – but when Gavin turned to look at him, he didn't seem to know what to say.

“You okay?” he settled on, and Gavin nodded, pulling his arm away before walking down to the basement.

“He's not okay,” Michael said, and Ray turned to him with raised eyebrows.

“Something's wrong,” Michael continued. “He freaked out when Ryan left him. Like, it wasn't just that he was scared and shit, he _really fucking freaked out_. Like he was having flashbacks or a panic attack or something, I don't know.”

Ray frowned.

“You care now,” he said – not accusingly, more questioningly, and Michael sighed, turning away.

“I know, I know, I was kind of being a dick before, but how was I meant to know he had some sort of inner trauma?” He glanced at Ray suspiciously, but when he found the other wasn't teasing or mocking him for it, he relaxed a little.

“He's not so bad,” Michael admitted, grudgingly. “You know. When one is forced to work with him to save his life and avoid Edgar's fucking Duck of Doom. You'd better watch out Ray, because Team Nice Dynamite might just take over X-Ray and Vav.”

“Team Nice Dynamite, what the fuck is that?” Ray laughed.

“It's our team name. Don't judge. We burned down a house, what have X-Ray and Vav done?”

Ray shook his head, but he was grinning widely, seeming pleased beyond belief that Michael and Gavin had at least gotten over their differences – and his joy was contagious; Michael found himself smiling back. And that more than anything – the returned camaraderie with his best friend – had him finally relaxing, feeling like everything had fallen back into place and despite all the shit that was going on, things here and now felt _okay_.

“I need to eat,” he said, gesturing back towards the kitchen. “Did you, uh, want to...?”

“Sure, I'll join you,” Ray said. “Need to tell you all about what happened back with Beardo.”

Michael grinned, and turned to leave the room. As Ray moved up next to him he felt a hand rest on his back, gently, just for a moment – an awkward, brief sort of touch before Ray snatched his hand back almost abruptly. Michael turned to him, bemused, but Ray was staring straight ahead and after a moment Michael shrugged and looked away.

He wondered what had happened on the trip for Ray to suddenly go back to acting normally. Either way, he wasn't going to complain about it.

 

* * *

 

 

Jack stood outside of Ryan's door for about ten minutes before knocking.

He had no idea why he was doing this. No idea why he was even fucking bothering. But everyone else had gone off to eat, or sleep, or in Gavin's case, keep an eye on the security cameras they'd set up about the house. And he figured someone should check in just to make sure Ryan hadn't run off in the night while they weren't looking, or was secretly plotting against them or anything.

“Is it an emergency?” Ryan's voice called out – artificially flat and just a little too bored sounding to be natural.

“We're back,” Jack replied, just in case he hadn't noticed their arrival. “Can I come in?”

There was silence for a moment, and Jack was considering turning and leaving when the door swung open a crack.

“Do you need something?” Ryan demanded, his voice low and gruff – but Jack caught the underlying pain and before Ryan could stop him, he pushed the door open and stepped into the room.

Ryan had put his mask back on, but Jack could practically smell the exhaustion hanging off him. He was hunched over slightly, one arm awkwardly dangling by his side, and when he moved to close the door behind him he only used one hand and practically limped back towards the bed.

“Okay, you're injured,” Jack said. “What fucked up your arm?”

“I jumped from a drainpipe and landed on it,” Ryan replied, almost hesitantly. “I think it's dislocated.”

“You didn't pop it back in yourself?” Jack asked, aghast. “Dude, has it been like that since last night? It must be killing you.”

“I would have but I've fucked my rib up too and I can't move my arm to push it back in.” Still Ryan stood, staring at him impassively, not asking for help, and after a moment Jack sighed.

“Let me grab the first aid kit and I'll see if I can't patch you up.”

He half expected Ryan to shut the door on him as soon as he left, but to his surprise once he'd grabbed the kit the other man let him back in right away.

“Take your shirt off,” Jack ordered, and after a moment's hesitation Ryan did so. Jack winced in sympathy – there were horrible dark bruises blooming over his chest and back, the sort of bruises that he knew struck deep and painful. He had scars to rival Geoff's, some older, some more recent.

“Wow, Edgar's guys really messed you up.”

“I had it under control,” Ryan uttered, darkly. He sat on the edge of the bed but when Jack reached towards him he tensed involuntarily.

“Sorry, this is gonna hurt,” Jack said, as he took hold of his arm. He kept up the conversation, in a bid to distract him. “If you haven't already heard, we got jumped too. Beardo was expecting us.”

“Edgar knew someone at the mansion was a traitor. He must have known we were coming somehow,” Ryan said grimly. “We'll need to move fast and strike hard to take out the rest before he finds us-” he broke off with a grunt of pain as Jack rotated his arm. When it finally slid into the socket he relaxed visibly.

“There,” Jack said.

“Thank you.” Ryan ground it out through gritted teeth, and Jack frowned at him a little as he pulled some swabs from the kit and tossed them into Ryan's lap, figuring he'd probably rather do the rest himself.

He hadn't realised how much it bothered him having Ryan all angry and annoyed. Not for the first time, he wondered just why he hated Edgar so much.

“I get that you wanted to kill him,” he said finally. “But Michael and Gavin thought they were helping. Don't take it out on them. We'll get him in the end.”

“Mind your own business,” Ryan said, but very carefully did not look at him.

Jack sighed. Maybe Geoff didn't trust Ryan now, but Jack considered himself a good judge of character and – despite his initial misgivings – he wasn't getting a bad vibe from him. In the progress of their interactions so far he had come to see the other man as... well, not as the sort of person who'd double-cross them or leave them for dead simply out of spite. But more as the sort of man who'd worked alone long enough that trusting people was hard – and he didn't doubt Ryan trusted them as little as they trusted him.

And seeing him sitting there on the bed, exhausted and stressed and obviously in pain – it was hard to be angry.

“For the record,” he said, “I get it, sort of. You might have heard me mention that a guy kidnapped Geoff a while ago – back when we first got together. When that happened I... I got really intense about it. I hunted him down non-stop until I found him. I went after the guy with no regard for the rest of our crew that I was working with, for what danger I might be putting them in. I don't know what the hell Edgar did to you, but I get that revenge on him is more important to you than our lives, especially since you don't know us that well. I don't like it. I don't approve of it. But I get it.”

Ryan stared at him intently. Then he gave a curt nod.

“If it's any consolation,” he said, “You needn't worry about me putting _Geoff_ in danger. He can take care of himself.”

Jack nodded. He'd figured as much – it was sheer bad luck that Gavin, the helpless runt of the team, happened to be the only one around when Ryan went all _Moby Dick_ on them.

“Good,” he said. “We understand each other then.”

Ryan nodded. Jack handed him the medkit and left the room, shutting the door quietly behind him.

 


	8. Chapter 8

“How could Edgar have known we were coming?” Geoff asked.

They were all sat around the dining room table, ready for their team meeting – and Geoff glanced at each of them in turn. Michael and Ray had managed to make up, it seemed, they were seated beside each other, shoulders almost touching, looking more relaxed than either of them had in a long time. Gavin was hunched over alone on the other side of Ray – as far as he could get from Ryan – and Geoff frowned a little. He'd been quiet and jumpy since they got back.

As for Ryan – he was closed off too. Closed off and menacing and more aloof than ever, eyes dark and cold behind his mask.

Jesus Christ, it seemed like every time some of them made up, the others would just pull apart again.

“He probably noticed we were taking out his men,” Gavin said, dully, “And sent out Beardo and the Corpirate as a trap.”

“He knew for certain we were at the mansion, though,” Ryan pointed out. Gavin's eyes flickered up to meet his before darting away again. “He _knew_. Maybe he noticed you messing about with the guest list.”

“Either way, he's onto us,” Geoff cut in quickly. “So we need to take down the rest of his people before anything else can happen. Gavin, how many are left? Two?”

Gavin nodded. “We know them as the pig and the duck, his second and third in command,” he said. “I haven't been able to pull any thing up on either of them so far, apart from footage of them on several heists with Edgar. But Geoff...” he trailed off, hesitantly.

“What is it, buddy?”

Gavin swallowed a few times and Geoff realised then that whatever he was about to say was making him nervous as fuck, his hands were fisting in the ends of his sleeves, strung tight as piano wire.

“I don't want to do this any more,” Gavin said quietly – and the whole room fell silent as they all turned to stare at him.

Gavin took a deep breath. “I'm out. You don't have to pay me in full, I just-”

“You're _out_?” Jack demanded. “You're pulling out? _Now_?”

Gavin straightened up and nodded, looking a little more confident now. “Of course I'm bloody out! You hired me and said I'd just have to sit behind a computer all day but... but twice now I've been chased and nearly shot at and _you_ ,” and here he directed such a poisonous look at Ryan that Geoff was actually taken aback; proper, genuine anger wasn’t something that sat comfortably on Gavin's usually friendly face. Ryan sat, rigid and unaffected, watching him with a mild sort of disinterest.

“You promised you'd take care of me,” Gavin said. “You _promised_ and then you – then you just abandoned me the first chance you got!”

“Things changed,” Ryan said coldly, “Don't be a child about it.”

“You can't pull out now,” Jack said. Geoff glanced at him warningly, but was ignored. “Jesus Christ, Gavin, things are just heating up and you're going to turn and run? If anyone's doing the abandoning here it's you.”

Gavin flinched, and did not reply to that.

Geoff frowned. He could see exactly where Gavin was coming from – and truth be told, was somewhat worried about him; he was obviously very much not okay after what had gone down and that made him unstable. And they couldn't afford to have anything or anyone unstable around in such a critical time as this.

But on the other hand – so far Gavin had tracked down the four men so quickly that he was pretty much vital to them getting the last two as well.

“You can't hold on for just a bit longer?” he asked. “We're almost there now and I swear for these last ones you won't have to do anything.”

Gavin just stared at him with wide, hurt doe-eyes, looking far more like Bambi than any grown man had a right to, and Geoff felt a pang of guilt as he realised that the other man didn't trust his word anymore.

“You don't have a choice,” Ryan said, and they turned to look at him. His eyes were fixed on Gavin. “Edgar knows your name and your face now,” he continued. “You won't get ten metres from here before he hunts you down.”

“Same boat as us, Vav,” Ray said quietly.

Gavin took in this information. He looked very, very upset for a minute, and Geoff felt stricken as he realised that there was literally nothing they could say to reassure him, no promises they could make that he would believe.

“And whose fault is that?” Gavin said, and glared at Ryan. “Well, I suppose you're right. I guess I just have no choice then.” He slammed his chair back from the table and got up, marching down towards the basement.

“Nice fucking going Ryan,” Michael spat, and Ryan turned his passive, bored stare to him.

Geoff spoke up then, knowing if someone didn't take charge right away they'd all break out fighting.

“Ryan,” he ordered, “Stop being a dickhole. I don't know what you were thinking back there but what's done is done. These last two sound dangerous so we're gonna have to pull together if we want to get them. Then we can part ways and never see each other again.”

For a moment Ryan just stared at him, and Geoff stared coolly back. Even if he had been the one to initially agree to trust the mercenary, it was... troubling, how quickly he'd thrown their plans aside for his own agenda. He was disappointed, yes, but Geoff also wasn't Ryan's boss, and reprimanding him for it would likely only annoy him further – all he could do for now was keep an eye on Gavin himself and try to avoid any future situations where one of the rest of them had to rely on Haywood.

After a moment Ryan gave a curt nod, and Ray reached out and put a hand on Michael's shoulder until he settled down with a sullen glare.

“My biggest concern right now,” Geoff continued, “Is that while we wait for Gav to track down these last two, Edgar might bring the fight to us.”

“No one uses the roads leading out here but us,” Michael said. “I'll rig some of them with explosive traps. That should give Edgar a nasty surprise. Just make sure you warn your people, Geoff, in case any of them come to visit.”

Geoff nodded. “That sounds good. Keep me updated.”

“We're running low on ammo,” Jack said. “Not to mention it might take more than just pistols and rifles to get these last two. I'll see if I can't get us some more weapons.”

“Good,” Geoff said.

“I'll get on the same,” Ryan added.

“We're all set then,” Geoff replied. “Home stretch now boys, let's not fall apart now.”

 

* * *

 

 

The weather took a surprising turn for the better overnight, and the next morning the sun shone brightly down on Geoff, Michael and Ray as they headed out a little way down the road. It was quiet, remote, but this was the route people were most likely to take if they were trying to sneak up on the house, so it was here that they needed to place the explosives.

“Ray knows what he's doing,” Michael said, waving his friend off. “We've done this before. Geoff, since you don't know how to set the charges I need you to dig some holes here for me.” He gestured at various places in the dirt and grass along the side of the road.

“I have become the manual labour,” Geoff murmured, but moved to comply.

It was hard work, but it was actually quite a relief to be doing something so menial and low-pressure after the stress of everything else. He dug for a little while and then looked over to see Michael and Ray working studiously away at setting the charges. They were sat on the ground, surrounded by mechanical parts, heads bent close together and murmuring quietly amongst themselves as they worked.

Geoff paused to get a drink of water, and when he looked back over at them, Michael had his head down, intently tinkering at the inner workings of a bomb with deft fingers. And Ray – Ray wasn't focused on his own work. He was staring at Michael as though seeing him for the first time, something like a small smile playing at the edges of his lips, obviously reconsidering their relationship in his mind and coming up with nothing but sunshine and roses.

It was so sickly sweet that Geoff actually thought he might throw up.

He got back to work, and a little while later Michael came to check on his progress.

“Oh, that's fine,” he said, “Actually we didn't need that many holes.”

“Wow, thanks for telling me before I fucking dug them all,” Geoff said. He threw down his shovel and arched his arms back behind his head, stretching – then winced as the motion pulled at the shrapnel wound he'd sustained two days previous.

Michael noticed, and frowned a little.

“I'm getting old,” Geoff joked. “But don't worry, there's no arthritis in the ol' trigger finger. Yet.”

“Actually...” Michael glanced at Ray, who was occupied elsewhere, before stepping closer to Geoff and lowering his voice. “I wanted to say thanks.”

“What for?”

“Ray told me what you did out there. That you saved his life.” Michael bit his lip, seeming somewhat embarrassed. “You... you didn't have to do that.”

Geoff couldn't help but smile. “Don't worry about it, man. I'm sure you'd do the same for my boyfriend.”

Michael started to nod, then did a double take. “Wait – what?”

Geoff snickered to himself. “Nothing,” he said, deliberately vague – except Michael was frowning now, seeming uncomfortable as he looked back over at Ray. He wandered off but Geoff now caught both of them sneaking thoughtful glances at each other whenever they thought the other wasn't looking.

It took a couple more hours until they were done, everything buried or set up along the road. The last thing Michael put up was a camera.

“Now Gav can keep an eye on this road too,” he said. “The charges around here aren't automatic; I can set them off from the house if we see something on the cams. The ones further down here though will be triggered by anyone driving along the road, so they're the ones we have to be careful to avoid ourselves.”

“Nice work,” Geoff said, folding his arms.

Michael shrugged. “It's a pretty basic setup but since we're not under siege or certain when he's coming it's probably better than putting up something elaborate that we might end up accidentally triggering ourselves.”

“Still clever as dicks,” Geoff said, then added, “You know Jack and I have talked before about hiring you two full-time.”

Michael and Ray glanced at each other.

“I mean it,” Geoff said, “We work well together and we need more frontmen in the crew. If there's anyone I trust after all this it's the two guys who were in it alongside me. If you're sick of my face by this point, though, that's understandable. Just think about it.”

“I... we will,” Ray said after a minute, looking honestly a bit stunned. Geoff couldn’t blame him; it was one thing to casually throw out the offer, but when it came down to it, Geoff's crew was one of the most powerful – and most feared – in the business. Getting in wasn't easy, and a genuine offer like this one was rare and only extended to those deemed most worthy.

Geoff smiled, and clapped his hands together. “Well then,” he said. “Let's take down Edgar first and then we'll talk.”

 

* * *

 

 

It took two days – two quiet days, with no Edgar in sight – for Geoff to come to the definite conclusion that something was up with Gavin.

Not just that he was upset – although even that, it seemed, he was making something of an effort to hide; whenever Geoff went down to the basement to check on him he was all smiles and quips and working diligently away.

That was what first raised Geoff's suspicions. He was behaving entirely _too_ normally for someone who had been so mopey and pissed at them earlier.

And at first, Geoff was inclined to put that down to Michael.

Jack and Ryan had kept out of Gavin's way for the most part, but it seemed that their little ordeal back at the Corpirate's mansion had set Michael and Gavin on the track to something approaching friendship. Now that he wasn't trying his hardest to take offence at everything Gavin did or said, Geoff could practically _see_ the moment Michael realised that when you stopped taking his – stupid and occasionally dickish – antics seriously, Gavin was actually pretty fun.

There was no room for bad humour in Geoff's team – it was one of the things that had drawn him to Ray and Michael before any of the other guns for hire he'd had at his disposal; they were easygoing and quick to laugh at themselves – if you were going to pick people to lay your life on the line with, they had to be ones you enjoyed spending time with. And Gavin was like that too – he didn't take himself too seriously and Geoff was growing fonder of him by the day.

And Ray and Michael, it seemed, were too – being of the closest age to each other in the house, an easy camaraderie had opened between them.

But something was still wrong.

Gavin hadn't brought up the idea of his leaving again since the first time, which Geoff had assumed meant he was buckling down and working as hard as possible to get Edgar's last two men so they could all be free to go their own ways. But whenever Geoff went to check on his progress – well, he seemed to have made _none_. And normally he would have just thought it was a hard job, that Edgar had covered his tracks well and it was taking a while to dig them out – but Gavin seemed just a little too desperate to prove to Geoff he'd been working on it, regaling him with strings of technobabble that sounded somewhat artificial and, occasionally, like he was just quoting Doctor Who.

He had no one to bring his suspicions to, though – Jack would jump at the chance to blame Gavin for slacking off, he knew – Ray would take offence at the perceived slight to his friend – Ryan was still avoiding them all – and Michael... Michael was a bit of a wild card; previously Geoff would have lumped him in with Jack in the anti-Gavin-Free squad, but now they were on the verge of getting along better, Michael was likely to side with Ray (probably more out of principle than anything else).

And what was Geoff even going to say? _Oh, he hasn't found them yet, he must be deliberately not trying_? Because why the actual fuck would Gavin even do that? Especially since he was the one who jumped whenever someone entered a room or slammed a door unexpectedly, who watched the security cameras night and day to make sure no one was sneaking up on the house – the one who was still barely sleeping, showing up at breakfast every morning looking ready to drop down dead and claiming he'd worked through the night -

Geoff just didn't know what to make of things.

It was on the afternoon of the third day that things came to a head; he walked into the kitchen to find Gavin standing there staring off into space. He had a mug of tea in one hand but was literally just _standing_ there, gazing intently at the sink as though it held the secrets of the universe.

Geoff waved a hand in front of his eyes and Gavin flinched back, startled.

“Wha – oh. Hi Geoff.”

“You really had your head in the clouds there, buddy,” Geoff said, a little more worry leaking into his tone than he'd intended.

Gavin forced a smile. “Bit tired, I guess.”

“You look it,” Geoff replied. And maybe that was it – maybe he was just too exhausted to be any sort of productive. “You want to get some sleep before you get back to work? It doesn't seem like you've been making much progress lately.”

For a moment Gavin looked very, very alarmed, like Geoff had figured out some sort of secret – then a look of the utmost offence crossed his face.

“I _have_!” he squawked. “I'm on that duck's trail as we speak.”

“Really?” Geoff folded his arms. “What have you got?”

Again, that momentary flash of alarm.

“It's a woman,” Gavin said finally.

“The duck's a woman,” Geoff replied.

“Yeah,” Gavin said. “And the pig's a guy."

“I could have told you that,” Geoff replied.

“Well, you didn't, did you? If you want to go track them down yourself, be my guest-”

“Come on, man, that's not what I was saying.” Geoff reached out and took the mug from Gavin before he could spill its contents everywhere with his angry gesticulating. “I'm just worried about you.”

Gavin opened his mouth to reply, but at that moment the door leading from the yard to the kitchen opened and he squeaked in surprise, jumping visibly. It was Michael who entered, eyebrows rising as he took in what had just happened.

“Just me, Gavvers,” he said. “You alright?”

“Geoff's being a mingey little mingepot,” Gavin said, folding his arms.

Michael glanced at Geoff, who raised his hands defensively.

“Jesus, all I did was ask how he was coming along.”

“I'm coming along just fine,” Gavin said, and departed a little too hurriedly.

“Um,” Michael said.

Geoff ran a hand through his hair. “All I did,” he repeated, “Was ask how he was coming along. He talks a good deal lately but there's been no solid progress.”

“You think he's stuck?” Michael asked.

“I think something's up with him.”

Michael caught on quickly, and stared at him in horror. “Why the fuck would you think he's deliberately not working? You're not.... oh Jesus Christ you're not seriously suggesting he works for _Edgar_? That _he's_ the one who ratted us out and that's why he knew we were coming?”

“Fuck no! That's not what I meant at all!” Geoff exclaimed. “I meant more like... like he's taking his time because he's scared that when we do find the duck he'll end up in the firing line again. Something like that.”

“Hmm.” Michael scratched his chin thoughtfully. “I see what you mean. I don't know. Maybe. I mean, it makes sense. He's freaked out and he doesn't trust us anymore but...” He shook his head. “Yeah, I don't know.”

“Ask Ray to go down and keep an eye on him, will you?” Geoff asked. “If he'll tell anyone what's up it's Ray.”

“Will do,” Michael replied – and Geoff couldn't quite help but smile at his heel-face change in attitude.

 

* * *

 

 

Having Gavin mad at you was somewhat like having a small, angry kitten mad at you; it wasn't threatening at all, but damn if it didn't make you feel guilty as hell.

Ryan had, for the most part, been avoiding confrontation with any of the others. This was very easy when most of them were avoiding him in turn.

And for the first two days after the Corpirate incident, he was wrapped in his own thoughts anyway.

_Edgar_ . He'd been right there in Ryan's grasp – and he'd fucked it up. Just the thought of how close he'd been made him shake with anger, trepidation – _guilt_.

He hadn't thought twice about leaving Gavin in that cloakroom; if he had the chance he'd do it again – he had to – there was no way he could just stand by with Edgar in reach and _not_ do something about it. And things had been going reasonably well; he'd managed to climb out the window and scale the building to the top storey where Edgar had gone to inspect the Corpirate's dead body. He'd taken out two of the guards before the others – including the pig – had overpowered him.

And sure, maybe he hadn't been faring _superbly_ in the fight that followed, but he would have done it. He would have risen back up and killed the guards and killed the pig and _killed Edgar_ ; squeezed the life out of him with his bare hands, ripped that _fucking mask_ off his face to see the scars he'd put there at their last encounter.

Just the thought of it made rage rise burning hot in his stomach.

He'd had to do it. He'd do it again given the chance. He _would_.

But Gavin – Gavin was mad at him, because Gavin didn't understand just why this was so important to him. Didn't understand the all-consuming anger that had taken Ryan over – didn't understand the urgency the sight of the cow aroused in him.

Ryan had been angry, too, afterwards, at Gavin and Michael alike for starting that fire, for ruining his plans. But Jack's simple words had struck something in him.

They were young. They didn't know. They didn't understand. Ryan couldn't blame them for it.

And Gavin thought he'd abandoned him.

That more than anything was playing at Ryan's nerves, because the one thing that sat uncomfortably on his shoulders was the thought that things could have gone awry, that Gavin could have died back in that house and it would have been on Ryan as much as Edgar – and he was _nothing_ , collateral damage, but for some reason the thought of it made a sick guilt rise up in Ryan.

It was playing with his head, a confused tangle of feelings that he didn't _want_ , didn't know what to do with. Gavin – the kiss – the scars – the sudden urge Ryan had to protect him, the anger at the thought that anyone had hurt him in the past – things he didn't want to feel because _emotions compromised him_ , emotions were dangerous – anything that would make him hesitate before going after Edgar was a liability he didn't need.

So he'd closed himself off from the others, but that didn't make things any better – just made it harder for him to sleep, plagued by a feeling of something left undone.

 

* * *

 

 

“Haven't seen you in a while,” Ray said.

Ryan looked up from where he was standing at the table, looking over a map of the surrounding area.

“Haven't had reason to come out and speak to you guys,” Ryan replied, in an even tone.

Ray shrugged, pulling out a chair and sitting at the table. Ryan watched him speculatively. He'd gauged the others' reactions pretty well – Michael was angry with him, Geoff was wary, and Jack was unexpectedly understanding – but he had no idea where he stood with Ray.

“You put your mask back on.”'

It wasn't what he'd expected to come out of the other's mouth, and Ryan felt himself reaching up and touching his mask before he could think about it.

“Well, yes,” he replied. “The job's over. Edgar didn't see my face – I covered it while I was around him, and Gavin deleted all the footage from the security cameras. Most of them were destroyed in the fire anyway. I don't believe anyone took a photo of me while we were there, so I'm going to operate under the assumption that my anonymity is still intact.”

“Except for Michael and Gavin,” Ray replied. “You're not gonna kill them, are you? To keep your secret?”

His tone was teasing rather than anything else, and Ryan felt confused for a moment, then unexpectedly grateful to have at least one person not treating him like he was either the scum of the earth or a ticking time bomb.

“No, I shan't kill them,” he said with a scoff.

“I'm kinda annoyed to be honest,” Ray said. “I wanted to see what you look like but Michael didn't even take a sneaky snapshot.”

“ _Then_ I would have to kill him,” Ryan muttered, and Ray laughed.

“If we survive all this,” he said, “You have to show me. Come on. It's not fair that _Gavin_ got to see and I didn't.”

“If we survive all this,” Ryan replied, “I'll think about it.”

Ray grinned at him, and before he could stop himself, Ryan felt a small smile tugging at his lips for the first time in the last few days.

At that moment, Michael entered the room from the kitchen. He stopped and did a double take when he saw Ryan, then glared. Still pissed at him then.

“Ray,” he said, crossing over to him. “Can we talk?”

“Sure,” Ray said, but didn't move, and after a moment Michael glanced pointedly at Ryan. But whatever he had to say, he seemed to decide it wasn't super confidential, though he still turned his back on Ryan, hoisting himself up to sit on the edge of the table in front of Ray.

“Geoff's worried about Gav,” he said. “He hasn't made much progress and he thinks he might be deliberately working slowly because he's scared of what might happen when we do find 'em.”

Ryan stiffened at this. _Son of a bitch_. The last thing they needed were people dragging their feet on this.

Ray was frowning now as well. “I don't think Gavin would do that.”

“I dunno, that's what Geoff told me,” Michael said. “Anyway, he wants you to go down and talk to him, keep an eye on him, that sorta thing.”

“I can do that,” Ray replied. “You know, he's been getting on better with you lately as well – if I can't figure out what's wrong with him, he might actually talk to you about it.”

Michael snorted. “He likes me 'cause I took care of him when a certain _someone_ left him in the fucking lurch.” He scowled over his shoulder at Ryan, who ignored him. “Anyway, just see what you can do about it.”

Ray nodded, and Michael strode off. Ray glanced after him, then turned to Ryan.

“You gonna fix things with him?” he asked.

Ryan frowned. It wasn't exactly _pleasant_ being at odds with the others in the house, but at the same time he felt offering Michael any sort of apology now would come across as insipid and insincere.

“I'll see how things play out,” he replied, and Ray nodded, though Ryan thought he looked almost disappointed with him. For some reason that made him feel even worse, but he shook it off.

“Welp,” Ray said, and got up. “Better go talk to Vav then.”

“I'll come with you,” Ryan said, and Ray raised his eyebrows.

“No offence, man, but he won't say shit if _you're_ there.”

“I won't hang around. I just want to check on him. See if he really isn't doing his work.”

Ray shrugged, and the two of them headed down to the basement. Ray was unexpectedly noisy for someone that Ryan knew could move as quietly as a mouse; he seemed to be taking deliberate, heavy footsteps on the stairs – but Ryan quickly realised it was so that Gavin would hear them coming and not be startled.

_Considerate_ , he thought, and then felt unexpectedly bad for not having come up with it himself.

“Hey X-Ray,” Gavin began, turning around – but froze as he saw Ryan.

Being genuinely angry with someone was so obviously foreign to him that Ryan wasn't sure if he should feel accomplished or terrible for managing to make him feel like that. He could practically see the cogs turning in Gavin's head as he realised that yes, Ryan had come to visit him, and yes, he was still mad as fuck with him.

_Then_ he glared.

“What do you want?” he asked, in a much more annoyed tone.

Ray glanced at Ryan before moving over to pull up a chair beside Gavin's. “Just came to hang out with you, see how you were going.”

Gavin rolled his eyes. “More like Geoff sent you to check on me because he thinks I'm being too slow.”

“Maybe,” Ray said, guiltily.

“Well it's not my bloody fault that I can't get a read on these guys. I'm trying my hardest but they're too good at covering their tracks.”

Ray nodded, but Ryan continued to stare at the screens in front of Gavin. He was no expert, but they didn't look much like the processes he'd followed when tracking down the previous four.

Gavin noticed his stare, and added, “And as I told Geoff already, if one of you thinks you can do a better job then you're bloody well welcome to try!”

_Methinks the lady doth protest too much_ , Ryan thought with a small frown – but his presence was obviously off-putting, so he headed back upstairs.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Except, he realised, half an hour later, Geoff Ramsey was not a stupid man – you didn't get where he was without being observant as fuck.

So he waited, and when Ray eventually came back upstairs, he crept halfway down the basement stairs, pressed back into the shadows where he could watch Gavin unnoticed.

He wasn't working.

Now and then he'd tap at the keyboard, or click about on the screen in a facade of productivity. But otherwise he sat in his chair, swivelling idly, looking down at something on his phone or just staring off into space. He seemed plagued by something – kept shaking his head, or pressing a hand to his mouth as though he was struggling with some terrible problem.

Ryan's first reaction was anger – _he_ is _slacking off, what the fuck, doesn't he realise how important this is?!_ But it was quickly overtaken with what he rather miserably realised was _concern_.

He headed back upstairs only to bump straight into Jack, who, it seemed, had been about to go down.

“Hey!” Jack said – and quickly seemed to notice Ryan was preoccupied. “What's up? You just check on Gavin?”

“I just _spied_ on Gavin,” Ryan replied. “He's just sitting there doing nothing.”

“What?!”

“Hasn't Geoff told you yet?” Ryan asked – and saw Jack frown, mightily. Obviously not then. “Geoff thinks he's deliberately slacking off and from what I can tell, he's right.”

“Son of a bitch,” Jack said, angrily, and began to march down, but Ryan grabbed his shoulder and pushed him back.

“Don't go down there and have a go at him,” he said, sternly. “That won't help. I'm going to try and talk to him later.”

Jack raised his eyebrows. “You seriously think he'll listen to _you_?”

“I know,” Ryan said patiently. “He's angry with me. So it falls on me to fix this.”

Jack still looked skeptical, but he nodded. “I trust you to deal with it,” he said.

“Well that makes you the only damn person in this house to trust me about anything,” Ryan replied, and it came out a little more gruffly than he'd intended, because Jack frowned.

“You fucked up, you had your reasons, we all do it sometimes,” he said. “Well, let me know how it goes. I suppose I'll get my updates from you since apparently Geoff doesn't want to tell me anything anymore.”

Thankfully his tone was mostly joking, or Ryan would have been seriously worried they were about to have _another_ domestic spat on their hands. It was already annoying that they were now split into a bunch of different groups with varying levels of information and ideas about Gavin.

“Will do,” he said.

 

* * *

 

 

A few weeks ago, Ryan's plan of attack would have been to corner Gavin. To drop into that low, dangerous voice of his, use his height and weight advantage and reputation to intimidate the younger man into working. To threaten some sense into him and make it perfectly clear that either he would do his job like he was meant to or Ryan would find someone else to do it for him. _Permanently._

But now – now he found himself trying to work out if there was a better way.

If Geoff was right and his procrastination was bred from fear, then Ryan would have to show that he wasn't in any danger. And since Ryan was the one who'd broken his trust by abandoning him, the only way he could possibly reassure Gavin now was to make him understand why he'd done it.

Fuck. He was going soft. He was going _fucking soft_ over some stupid, scarred-up hacker kid.

_This is all just to get Edgar_ , he reassured himself. _And much as they call you mad and bloodthirsty... you've always favoured being smart over being brutal._

He chose his time wisely.

Geoff and Jack were off discussing some Achievement City business, and Michael and Ray were taking a turn watching the cams while Gavin went to get food. Ryan waited in the living room, watching as he moved about the kitchen – but he only made a cup of tea, and then drank half before pouring the rest of it down the sink and walking out onto the back deck.

Ryan waited a few moments and then followed him, pausing in the doorway. It was cold outside; dusk had fallen and out here in the country the temperature tended to drop with the sun. Gavin stood by the porch rail, turning his phone over and over in his hands.

“Bloody hell,” Ryan heard him whisper, before he shoved his phone in his pocket and ran his hands through his hair. Still troubled by whatever he'd been mulling over earlier then. “Bloody hell, bloody hell-”

“Gavin,” Ryan said, stepping forward – and Gavin jumped a mile, whirling around.

“Ry- Ryan,” he croaked, sounding very alarmed. “Christ, don't sneak up on me.”

“I'm sorry,” Ryan said – and was surprised by how genuinely it came out. “We need to talk.”

He stepped forward again and Gavin pressed as far back into the rail as possible.

“I have nothing to say to you,” Gavin snapped.

“Well, I have some things to say to you.”

“I don't bloody care what you want to talk about.” And Gavin straightened up, eyes flashing – getting properly angry now. “So you can locate the direction _off_ and fuck quickly towards it, thanks.”

He moved towards Ryan, trying to get back inside – making a passing attempt to shove him out of the way.

For a moment Ryan was tempted to let him go, to try another time – but he quickly realised that if he didn't say what he was going to say now, he never would, and grabbed Gavin's arms, pushing him back and stepping between him and the door.

“We're talking,” Ryan said firmly. “ _Now_.”

He didn't miss the momentary flash of fear that crossed Gavin's face before he lifted his chin.

“Let go of me,” he said.

Ryan shook his head. “Let me explain-”

“ _I don't want your bloody explanations_!” Gavin tried to shove him off again and Ryan adjusted his grip, grabbing his shoulders and pushing him back against the veranda rail. He tried to be gentle, not wanting to hurt him, but it was hard when he kept thrashing about, fighting as hard as possible to get free.

“Get off, get off!” Gavin cried. He was being noisy enough that Ryan feared Ray and Michael would hear, and come to investigate – so he clapped a hand over Gavin's mouth.

“Shut the fuck up, I'm trying to _apologise_ here- fuck!”

He jerked back as Gavin bit at the palm of his hand.

If he'd thought Gavin a kitten before, now he looked like a feral cat; bristling and tense, hissing and seething – and staring up at Ryan with pure _loathing_ in his eyes.

“I don't,” he spat, “fucking. _Care_. Nothing you _possibly_ say can make up for it. Jesus Christ, Ryan, I trusted you because you reminded me of the _one person_ in the world who never abandoned me, but it looks like I was a right fool. Haha, stupid little Gavin thought he actually _meant_ something to the mad mercenary. Well, the joke's on me. You can save your damn apologies, I don't want them.”

“Gavin,” Ryan said – and it came perilously close to pleading. He felt like shit, like the worst person in the world, and his moniker had never made him flinch before so he wasn't sure why it did now. “I'm... I'm trying to explain to you _why_ , I – this is shit I've never told _anyone_ before so if you'll just _listen_ -”

He felt _nervous._ Nervous and sick just like he had when he took off his mask – vulnerable was not something Ryan Haywood did – _ever_ – and when he started to speak the words came spilling out of him, trying and trying to get across even though he knew Gavin wasn't listening. The other man had begun struggling again and Ryan caught his wrists, pinning him back against the rail as he frantically spoke.

“Edgar is... I _have_ to kill him, okay, I have to get my revenge on him. We met once before, and he... he wronged me terribly, he took everything I care about – _listen,_ Gavin – I need to _destroy_ him, when I saw him back there I had to take my chance. I could never forgive myself if – stop moving, I don't want to hurt you – if he was within reach and I did nothing about it. I've spent the last few years wanting nothing more than to slit that fucker's throat and when I saw him I just – I _had_ to do it, I had to at least _try_ to go after him. My intention was never to abandon you-”

“ _I don't care_ ,” Gavin cut in. He stopped struggling, staring up at Ryan with burning eyes, “You can save your excuses and your bloody tragic backstory or whatever, it doesn't change what you did. Shitty things happened to you, well they happened to me too.” With a sudden yank he jerked his wrists out of Ryan's grasp, but he made no move to escape. Instead he grabbed the hem of his shirt and half-lifted it, just enough to reveal the ends of the scars.

“Take a good damn look at what happened the last time I thought I could trust someone,” Gavin said – his breath hitching now, so angry he was shaking. “And I – I thought you would be different. But I guess I should have known, right? After all you've made it perfectly bloody clear what you think of us. We're just a means to an end for you, right?”

Ryan stared at him for a moment. He felt _hurt_ , for the first time in a long time, by the other's dismissive rejection of his attempt at sharing-and-caring. It was not pleasant – made him feel weak, shaky and embarrassed – and, defensively, he let a coldness descend over his features and into his voice.

“That's exactly what I was trying to explain to you,” he said. “You're not my friends. You can't _have_ friends in this business because it only ends in pain. They betray you or they get killed or people use them against you, and that cynicism? It's born from experience, experience that _Edgar_ gave me, so – don't you _get it_ , don't you see _why...”_

He trailed off, hoping Gavin would understand what he was trying to say – what he couldn't quite bring himself to say out loud – what had happened last time, what Edgar had done – but Gavin just stared up at him, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Then maybe,” he said quietly, “You should have just been this cold from the start instead of... instead of pretending to be friendly and kind. You can't... Ryan, you can't just tell people you'll protect them, you can't just – you can't just _kiss_ people and act like... and then... then turn around and leave them in the dust. So if you think I'm going to trust you again, you're mistaken. And if you think I'm going to _forgive_ you, you're damn wrong.”

There was a moment of tense silence. Then Gavin stepped forward, shouldering past Ryan, and Ryan let him go – too drained to try and stop him.

He heard the door shut behind him and turned, slamming his fists against the railing.

“Damn it,” he hissed, “Damn it – damn it-!”

And it wouldn't even be so bad if he felt _angry_ , if he could bring himself to be mad at Gavin for making no effort to listen, to understand – but he _couldn't_ , all he felt was disappointed and sort of hollow. It was hard to be pissed at someone who'd obviously had something so horrible happen to them that they now had trust issues the size of Mount Everest, which Ryan had gone and royally triggered.

If he was angry with anyone it was _himself_ – for thinking it would be a good idea to try and explain, to say things he'd never said to anyone – for allowing himself to somehow get invested enough that it hurt for Gavin to push him away. Somewhere along the line he'd started – oh good lord why – _caring_.

He clenched his fists hard enough that his fingers ached. And then, not at all inclined to go back inside, he abruptly decided it would be a tremendously good idea to sit on the roof, and climbed up the porch. There was a small overhang where the first storey jutted out beyond the second, and it was here that he perched, breathing heavily the cool, crisp night air as he tried to calm himself down.

He wasn't sure how much time had passed as he sat, wrapped in his own thoughts, when the door opened on the veranda down below and he saw Michael and Ray emerge. They stood by the rail, staring out at the grounds for a few moments.

“You give it any thought yet?” Ray asked finally.

“What, Geoff's offer? Yeah, but... I don't know.” Michael scuffed his foot along the wood of the deck. “I mean, I wouldn't _mind_ working with him, but it's a pretty big change, y'know? Joining a crew full time when we're used to it being just the two of us. Wouldn't be able to fucking pick jobs as we please, right?”

“Yeah,” Ray agreed. “But I was thinking. Maybe it's time for a change.”

A pause.

“You weren't happy before?” Michael asked.

Ray shook his head. “It's not that. Being here, doing this – I mean, the whole Edgar situation _sucks_ , but it's been kind of... nice? Having Gavin here doing his thing, which takes a bunch of research work off our hands. And it's not just Geoff's reputation that makes it a good offer. He's a good guy – he saved my life – and having someone else in charge might be nice. And we'd be working with Jack too – I like him.” He paused, hesitant, then added, “While we were out there he... he kinda helped me work through some stuff. I wouldn't mind having him around.”

“I get what you mean,” Michael said. “Thing is, if he'd offered it to just me or just you I'd be like _fuck no_. But I don't really care where we end up working as long as you and I are still together-”

He broke off, seeming to realise exactly how that sounded. There was a slightly strained silence – like this was the sort of statement that a few months ago, a few _weeks_ ago, would have been followed by the ever-saving “no homo”.

Ray was looking at him carefully, and Michael turned his head away, something like a blush rising on his cheeks. His shoulders were tense, almost hunched over as though fearing Ray's response.

“Yeah,” Ray said then, quietly. “I get you. Same here.”

He reached out and touched Michael's shoulder, and for a moment they stood, smiling at each other.

Ray looked about to say something else, but Michael turned away abruptly, reaching up to rub at the back of his neck.

“I – uh, it's getting cold, we should go back in.”

“Okay,” Ray said, and looked very thoughtful as he followed his friend back inside.

Ryan let out a huff of breath. _Well isn't that fucking sweet. It'll all end in fucking tears eventually-_

He realised he was being bitter – _mean_ – and forced himself to calm down.

He was just climbing down onto the porch when the door opened again and Jack emerged.

“Jesus!” he said, as Ryan dropped down in front of him. “Um, what the fuck were you doing up there?”

“...observing the perimeter,” Ryan replied, drily.

Jack stepped forward, expression softening. “Are you okay?”

Ryan scowled at him, shoulders tensing – what did Jack mean? How could he even tell if Ryan was upset, he had his mask on – “'course I'm okay. Why wouldn't I be?”

Jack raised his eyebrows. “You seem out of sorts, is all.”

Maybe it was the tension of the long day, or seeing Michael and Ray so close just a few minutes ago, or the fact that Jack helping him with his arm the other day had been the first gentle touch he'd felt in a long time – for some reason Ryan found himself saying, “I fucked it up talking to Gavin.”

“What do you mean?”

“I tried...” he paused, swallowing – but he didn't need to tell Jack the whole story, just the gist of it. “I tried to tell him what happened. Why I hate Edgar so much. To explain why I left him back there. But I couldn't make him listen.”

Jack opened his mouth, then paused. “What do you mean you couldn't _make_ him listen?”

“He just wouldn't listen to a word I said. He wanted to go back inside.”

“You dysfunctional bastard,” Jack said, with somethin almost like fondness. Ryan scowled at him, offended, but Jack continued, “I'm no fan of Gavin but even I can tell you that cornering him out here, holding him down and trying to force your explanation into his head when he's already so skittish was never going to work.”

“I just wanted him to get it,” Ryan said through gritted teeth.

Jack rolled his eyes. “He's angry. Give him more time. I'll get Geoff to talk to him if you're still worried he's not working. Now come inside before you freeze to death,” he added, reaching out to grab Ryan's arm. Ryan hesitated, but let himself be tugged back into the house.

 

* * *

 

 

He slept uneasily that night. It had been a long time since he dreamed of Edgar, of his old team and everything that had happened – those thoughts tended to haunt him during the day rather than at night – but it seemed talking to Gavin had dredged it all back up.

He was woken by a sharp rapping on his door, lurching awake with a sick sort of disorientation. He didn't often sleep later than he intended, and hadn't realised he was that exhausted after two days of stress.

“Hey, you awake in there?” Michael's voice called out, along with more furious knocking. “Fucking team meeting in ten.”

“I hear you,” Ryan called out, voice slightly hoarse with sleep. He scrubbed his hands over his face with a sigh, reaching out to grab his mask from the bedside table.

Everyone was already waiting around the dining room table when he walked in. Gavin glanced up at him, a strange expression flashing over his face too quickly for Ryan to work out what it meant, before he looked down at his phone again.

“Hey doofus, concentrate now we're all here,” Geoff said, reaching out and plucking the phone from Gavin's hands before tossing it onto the table. Gavin yelped.

Ryan moved up to the table, putting his own stuff down before leaning across to look at the map. “What's going on? I ordered in those weapons I mentioned before, we could pick them up today unless you were wanting to do something else.”

“That's literally what we were planning on doing,” Jack said. “Mine have come in too so we were thinking of going into the city to get them. The only problem is, we're pretty sure Edgar doesn't have eyes on this house, but he'll definitely be watching us if we go into Achievement City.”

“He's known too much about our movements for my comfort,” Geoff added. “So I don't want to send Jack in there alone. Where you picking yours up from, Ryan?”

“Meeting a contact down by the wharf. I'm a regular of his, but if Edgar has been tracking us I can call him and tell him to meet me in a different spot.”

“I'll go with you,” Geoff decided. “Michael and Ray can go with Jack. That way we all have backup.”

“What about Gavin?” Ray asked, glancing across at him. “We're gonna leave him in the house by himself?”

“I'll be fine,” Gavin said quietly. “Edgar doesn't know about the house, so. Nothing should happen.”

Ryan frowned. That was a bit of a face-heel-turn considering Gavin had just, you know, thrown a massive fit about Ryan leaving him alone earlier. Sure, they _thought_ Edgar didn't know about the house, but he'd thought Gavin would err on the side of paranoia after everything that had happened.

“You sure?” Geoff asked.

Gavin nodded. “Yeah. I'm good. It's better if you all stick together.”

“If you say so,” Geoff said, a touch dubiously. He turned to Jack and the others. “You guys fine with this plan?”

Jack glanced between Geoff and Ryan, then nodded. “Sure. We'll stay in touch the whole way. Hopefully we'll get in and out before Edgar can cause any trouble.”

“He wouldn't attack you right in your own territory, surely,” Ray said.

“That monster would do _anything_ ,” Ryan said darkly, and they all turned to look at him. He stared stonily back.

Jack clapped his hands together. “Let's get going then,” he said, and moved to usher Ray and Michael out.

Ryan turned to gather his belongings. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Geoff move over to Gavin, reaching out to squeeze his shoulder.

“You sure you'll be okay on your own here? I don't mind taking you with me, or asking Ray to hang back and stay with you.”

“I'm sure,” Gavin replied, with a small smile.

Geoff started to turn away, when Gavin reached out and grabbed his arm – a sudden, almost frantic movement that tugged him back around.

“Geoff!”

“What?” Geoff asked, brows furrowing.

Gavin looked sheepish suddenly – and, Ryan realised with a frown, almost worried or nervous.

“I just... I want to say thanks,” he said, quietly. “You've been... kind to me.”

“Don't need to thank me, buddy,” Geoff replied, though he was starting to look concerned too. “God knows I've dragged you into a lot of crap you didn't ask for. Hey, you sure you're okay, kid? You're acting weird as dicks.”

“Nah, I'm fine, I just. Wanted to tell you that.” Gavin turned away with another slightly forced smile, and Geoff stared at him intently before nodding. He exchanged a glance with Ryan as they left the house.

 

* * *

 

 

“You don't need to keep looking at me like I'm going to explode any second,” Ryan said.

They were about halfway to Achievement City. Ryan had taken a motorbike and Geoff a car, deciding to go for both manoeuvrability and cover so they had both options in case something happened. They had driven alongside the others for a time, but had eventually split off in order to take different entrances into AC.

Now they had paused by the side of the road for Ryan to work out a different spot to ask his weapons dealer to meet him, and Geoff kept giving him _looks_ – shifty, suspicious looks like he thought Ryan was going to turn on him any second. It was getting real fucking annoying, real fucking fast.

“Really,” Ryan said, “You're the one who first agreed to work with me.”

“So I did,” Geoff said. And then added, very informatively, “Hmmmm.”

“What the fuck is 'hmmm' supposed to mean?” Ryan snapped. “I get it, I fucked up, okay? I took a chance on killing Edgar and it didn't work out. Shit happened and Gav got caught in the middle. There was nothing sinister about it.”

“That coming from the most sinister man in the country,” Geoff replied. “But in all honesty I'm a lot more worried about Gavin than I am you at the moment.”

“He is acting decidedly strangely,” Ryan agreed. He smoothed the map out over the roof of the car. “Where are you thinking?”

“That bridge?” Geoff suggested, pointing. “Not too crowded but not too open either, and I can ask a couple of my guys to hang out in these buildings and cover us if need be.”

“Sounds good,” Ryan said. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, turned it on, and then did a double take. “Oh – crap.”

“What?” Geoff asked.

“Looks like I took Gavin's phone from the table by mistake,” he said. “Doesn't matter, I can still make the call.” He flicked to the phonebook and frowned.

“What?” Geoff asked, noticing him pause.

Ryan turned the screen to show him. “That's not any of our numbers, is it?”

Geoff squinted. “No...?”

“Who the fuck has he been texting and calling the last few days?” A feeling of unease was building in the pit of his stomach. “Look at this! They've been messaging on and off since the day after we got back from the Corpirate's place. I didn't even know he was in contact with anyone outside the house.”

“What the fuck have they been talking about? Who is it?” Geoff demanded, leaning in over Ryan's shoulder.

Ryan quickly flicked to the text messages. They were somewhat disjointed – the conversation occasionally breaking away into phone calls, it seemed – but he got the gist of it.

_'You and I both know this is bigger than us,'_ the mysterious messenger had sent at one point – whoever they were, it seemed it was someone Gavin already knew, or so Ryan supposed from the familiarity of his address – ' _We work for these guys but they don't give a fuck about us. Don't let Ramsey drag you into his mess. Edgar has no interest in you, it's Geoff he wants.'_

_'Piss off Shadles, I'm not interested in what Edgar has to offer,'_ Gavin had replied.

' _Maybe you should be b/c Ramsey and the others will kick you to the curb as soon as they're done with you. It's happened before, Free – I heard about what happened with Barry. If you think that was bad, Edgar catching you after he's done with the others will be a hundred times worse. But if you help him now no one needs to get hurt.'_

_'Except Geoff and Jack and my other friends.'_

_'They aren't your friends, Free, they're using you for a job. Are you forgetting what happened back at the Corp's mansion? I was watching that night, I saw it all, Haywood dropped you like a pile of bricks as soon as he had the chance. Get out while you can because this is all gonna go to shit and you're gonna end up as the collateral damage. Again.'_

A few more phone calls.

' _Edgar says you don't need to help him,'_ the mysterious 'Shadles' had sent then, some time later, ' _you don't need to actively work against your friends. Just meet up with him and give him everything you've got so far. All the info you've gathered on his men, his hideouts. Leave he and Ramsey on equal ground to sort out their own problems and Edgar will let you go right away'_

_'Like I'm meant to bloody trust that'_

_'I've been working for him a while, Free, he's a man of his word'_

_'I'm not bloody stupid'_

_'You are 'bloody stupid' if you think you're getting out of this alright. Edgar is going to win eventually and you don't want to be on the wrong side if that happens. Ramsey can't protect you.'_

The texts ended there for another day, but there were a bunch of phone calls in the interim, and Ryan frowned, wondering just what had developed in these off-spaces.

Especially since, to his great alarm, the most recent message was from just four or five hours ago – early that morning.

' _Trust me Free, you're making the right call. If you don't save your own skin no one else will. This is the only way you can get out of this before things get even more complicated. I'll see you soon'_

“What the fuck does all that mean?” Geoff asked, slowly.

Ryan glanced at him. It was perfectly clear what it all meant, but he could see the denial in Geoff's eyes – the unwillingness to believe what was right in front of him.

“Whoever this guy is,” Ryan said, “He was watching us back at the mansion. And it looks like he's contacted Gavin trying to convince him to pull out of this and give everything he has so far to Edgar.” He paused, clenching his fists. “It's a trap. There's no way Edgar will be content with taking what he has and letting him go.”

“Gavin would never agree to that,” Geoff said.

“Take a good fucking look, Geoff,” Ryan said, pointing to the last message. “He already _has_. This guy knew exactly which buttons to press.”

“What do you mean, _buttons_ , what buttons?”

Ryan recalled abruptly that Geoff didn't know about Gavin's scars, didn't know that whatever had gone wrong on his last mission, it had been _bad **.**_ Bad enough to spook him into running now.

“Fuck,” he said then, a thought striking him. “Gavin was pretty fucking insistent on being left alone in the house today.”

“What are you implying?”

“I'm – fuck, I'm not implying, I'm _telling_ you that he's going to turn tail and run, he's probably doing so right now. Damn it!” He glanced at his watch. Gavin wouldn't leave right away, would probably wait until he knew they had all travelled a safe distance from the house – would have to pack all his shit up as well. He could still make it in time.

Turning, he jumped on the motorbike.

“Ryan,” he heard Geoff start.

“I'm heading back to check on him, call the others,” Ryan ordered – and sped off without waiting for a reply.

_Fuck, fuck, fuck_ , was all he could think, his heart pounding a rapid staccato as he raced down the road, as fast as he could – of course this would be Edgar's next ploy, of course he'd find their weakest link and exploit it. Ryan should have _fucking_ expected this.

It seemed to take him hours to get back to the house. To his relief he found the two other cars still out the front – Gavin was still there, then, though how he was planning to leave when he couldn't drive was beyond Ryan. He leaped off the bike and fumbled with his key, crashing through the front door and pelting down the stairs.

But barely had he rushed into the basement than out of nowhere something heavy and solid slammed into the side of his head. Suddenly he was on the floor, the ceiling whirling above him, disoriented and confused.

Gavin's face swam into his blurred vision, crouching over him – he reached up, grasping weakly for the other man, but Gavin grabbed his hands and forced them back down.

“I'm sorry,” he said – or something to that effect, Ryan could hear about as well as he could see right now; everything was undercut by a faint roaring noise, like the ocean was trapped inside his head – then Gavin disappeared from sight and a moment later another blow struck the back of his head.

This time, everything went black.

 

* * *

 

 

Gavin was gone.

Geoff's heart _dropped_ when he arrived back at the house with a screech of brakes to find one of the cars that had been out front had disappeared. Ryan's motorbike was pulled up, not even braked – the front door swinging open on its hinges.

_What the fuck happened?_

Determined not to think the worst until he'd actually seen it, he entered the house cautiously, glancing at his phone – Jack had just texted him; after Geoff sent him a somewhat panicked message he'd turned back towards the house with Michael and Ray and they were on their way back now.

“Ryan?” he called out, cautiously moving down towards the basement.

There was no response. He reached for his gun, an uneasy feeling starting in his stomach – and as he rounded the basement stairs, he gasped as he caught sight of Ryan sprawled on the floor, seemingly unconscious.

A sudden bolt of panic ripped through him at the sight of the other man lying so still and lifeless.

“Fuck – Ryan, what happened?” Crouching next to him, he reached out and rolled him over – he was breathing fine, and at Geoff's touch he stirred, wincing as he reached out to touch the back of his head.

“What the fuck happened? You alright?” Geoff demanded.

“Fucking _Gavin_ happened,” Ryan spat. He rubbed the back of his head and Geoff could see him blinking heavily behind the mask. “Fuck that hurts.”

“Are you concussed?”

“Probably.” Ryan stood up and wobbled mightily, Geoff reaching out to steady him. “Where is he?”

“He's gone, dude, took a car too. Jack and the others are on the way back.” Geoff frowned. “How long were you out?”

Ryan glanced at his phone and swore. “Longer than I'd like. He could be anywhere by now. Damn it!” He turned and kicked the wall, hard. “ _Damn it_!”

“Calm the fuck down, dude, we'll find him,” Geoff said – but the calm in his tone was forced because _Jesus Christ Gavin betrayed them_ – but no, that wasn't right, the thought of him turning tail didn't sit comfortably in Gavin's mind.

Ryan seemed to realise what he was thinking.

“I'm not angry with him,” he said. “Well, I am, but not... I'm more mad at _Edgar_. That motherfucker knew exactly which cards to play and I don't doubt his intentions are bad. I think Gavin genuinely believes he can just hand over what data he's gathered so far and get out, naïve little fucker he is. He's not trying to turn on us, he's trying to get out because he's scared.”

“But if Edgar gets his hands on him...”

“He'll wring him for all he's got on us,” Ryan said grimly.

The level of fear that shocked through Geoff at the thought of Gavin in Edgar's hands was honestly astounding; he hadn't felt that panicked for anyone other than Jack in a long, long time.

Voices and footsteps up above had them turning, wary – but it was just Jack and the others. They burst into the room, glancing about.

“Where the fuck is he?” Jack demanded.

“He's gone,” Geoff said. “Knocked out Ryan and ran.”

Jack stared at Ryan. “How the fuck did he get the jump on you? Kid weighs like eight pounds wringing wet.”

“I forgot he had cameras watching the house. He'd have seen me coming up,” Ryan admitted, grudgingly. “I underestimated him. He hid by the door and hit me as soon as I came in.”

“What'd he hit you with?” Michael asked – then looked over and saw the fire extinguisher rolling on the floor a little way away. A slightly bitter smile tugged at his lips. “Son of a bitch.”

It took a little time to explain to the others exactly what was going on, and to show them the messages on the phone.

“So this Shadles is someone he knows from before,” Ray mused. “But now he's working for Edgar and he's been watching us the same way Gav's been watching Edgar's people. He must have been cut into the camera feed at the Corpirate's place too.”

Ryan nodded.

“What's this mean?” Geoff asked, squinting in confusion at one of the text messages. “ _I heard about what happened with Barry_?”

He saw Ryan hesitate, and turned to him expectantly. “What? You know something you're not sharing?”

Ryan paused. “Remember how I was asking you about the last job Gavin went on? The one that went sour?”

Geoff nodded. “Yeah – what's what got to do with things?”

Michael had caught on too, it seemed. “Gavin's terrified of us abandoning him. That's why he freaked out when Ryan left him in the house. I think it's to do with the last bunch of guys he was working with; something must have happened there. But it sounds like this fucker Shadles has played on that to scare him into trying to cop out with Edgar.”

“He wanted to leave before,” Geoff realised. “But he couldn't because Edgar knows about him. Sounds like Shadles has mediated a deal where Edgar leaves Gavin alone in exchange for him giving him all his data so that we can't use it.”

“But like I've been saying,” Ryan added grimly, “Edgar's a fucking liar. If he gets his hands on Gavin... well, it won't be pretty for him.”

Ray looked horror-struck by this, Michael too – Geoff was pretty sure alarm was showing on his own face.

“He might spill where the house is – he knows a bunch of our plans,” Jack began.

Ray rounded on him. “I'm more worried about him being, y'know, fucking _tortured and murdered_!”

“Don't start a fight,” Geoff cut in quickly. “What we need to do is find him before Edgar does. Ryan, is there anything on that phone saying where he might be planning to meet Shadles?”

Ryan shook his head. “Not in the texts. I don't think there's any way to get back whatever they said in the calls.”

“Damn it,” Geoff muttered. “Well, there's only so many places around here he can go.”

“Gavin's not stupid,” Ray spoke up. “He won't meet them just anywhere. It'll be somewhere he knows – somewhere on his own terms.”

Ryan nodded. “If he knows anything about negotiations he'll have picked somewhere familiar to him.”

“Okay,” Geoff said. “Ryan, stay here and look back over the cam footage; we have eyes on some of the roads here so we might catch a glimpse of where he's going.”

“Oh my fucking God if he accidentally drives over those bombs we planted...” Michael trailed off as the possibility hit him.

The colour literally drained from Ray's face and Michael reached out to grab his arm.

“He won't,” Geoff said, but it felt like there was a great, cold stone sitting heavy in his stomach. “We warned everyone about those. He wouldn't be that stupid.”

“What do you need me to do?” Ray asked, voice hard and determined. Michael ran his hand up to his shoulder, squeezing reassuringly.

“You and Jack go scout around the area,” Geoff said. “He can't drive so he'll try get on public transport as soon as possible. See if we can catch him on the move. Maybe he hasn't gotten that far yet.”

“What about me?” Michael asked.

“You and I,” Geoff said, “are taking a little trip back to Achievement City. We don't know enough about Gavin to work out where he might be going, but I know someone who might.”

“Burnie,” Jack said, catching on.

Geoff nodded.

“Alright,” he said, clapping his hands together. “Let's move fast, we have no time to waste. We gotta get to Gavin before he gets to Edgar. Jesus Christ this is not what we need right now.”

They turned, splitting apart into their various groups. Geoff honestly had never felt this stressed over someone he barely knew – he wasn't sure why the thought of Gavin running into danger was making him so uncomfortable – but Geoff Ramsey protected his own, and somewhere along the line Gavin had become part of the fold. If anything happened to him Geoff suddenly realised he wouldn't just be able to brush it off.

_You've been kind to me_ . The memory of Gavin's words from earlier that day suddenly seemed to him like a goodbye, and he bit his lip – that, if anything, only solidified his thoughts that Gavin wasn't doing this out of malice – or even out of cowardice; there was a difference between that and genuine, consuming _fear_.

Whatever had happened on that last job it had obviously messed him up something bad, and Geoff kicked himself for not noticing sooner – for taking him out into the field in the first place. All the promises he'd broken, the trust they'd all betrayed, had neatly and summarily led to Edgar being able to convince Gavin that this was a good idea. And now they were _all_ in the lurch.

“Geoff,” Michael said – he was waiting by the door, and Geoff jerked out of his own thoughts.

Even Michael looked worried, and three days ago he'd've jumped at the chance to label Gavin a traitor or an idiot – but now he just looked determined to get him back. Geoff realised with a terrible sinking feeling that Michael had been the one to see Gavin break down over being abandoned – that it had probably shocked him into realising the severity of the others' issues.

“Come on,” Michael said, and Geoff nodded, lips pressed together grimly as they made for the car.

They would go to see Burnie. And then, however hard it was, however long it took – they would get Gavin back.

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is so late! Longer chapter to make up for it~
> 
> **T/W: A non-main character is killed in a somewhat disturbing way. It's not graphic but the manner of death is a bit gruesome.**

Gavin seriously wished he had thought to eat something before leaving the house.

He drove for about twenty minutes before he suddenly felt so lightheaded that for a moment he was certain he was going to pass out, and was forced to pull over to the side of the road and put his head down until his vision stopped flashing and the odd tingling that had started in his hands and feet ceased.

Three days of running on nothing much more than tea and Red Bull – three days of little to no sleep, afraid of the nightmares he _knew_ were coming – three days of wracking his nerves over whether or not to take Shadles up on his deal, of acting as though everything was normal and sneaking phone calls and texts between pretending to work.

All of it was catching up to him now, and it took a few moments of deep, steady breathing, head down between his knees, before his head finally cleared enough for him to sit up again.

_Jesus bleedin' Christ. What am I doing_ .

For a moment he was struck with the urge to go back. He could just turn this car around and return to the house and apologise to the others.

But if they hadn't hated him before, they certainly would after this – and he just felt so _stuck._

_Should never have taken this damn job in the first place_ .

Because the problem was – the problem was, he'd never backed out of something in his life, but Barry had changed him. And maybe he'd thought he'd be alright with Ramsey, but the moment Ryan turned his back and left him everything had come crashing back down on him and he  _knew_ , then, that he wasn't alright – might never be alright – and if Ryan had abandoned him that easily then maybe the rest of them would all follow. And Geoff had been kind, Ray too, but Gavin just. Couldn't make himself trust them, and the more he thought about the possibility of things going wrong the more scared he got, and having that constant anxiety was  _exhausting_ , and he just – wanted it to  _stop_ .

And then Shadles had called.

Shadles who he hadn't heard from in years – he worked in a similar area to Gavin, though somewhat more focused on the hacking side of things. They weren't  _friends_ , but he'd been one of Burnie's contacts at one point as well and they'd both heard of each other in the way any two experts in a field have heard of each other. They'd worked together once as well, though they didn't make much face contact.

It seemed he'd fallen in with Edgar, and when he'd offered him the chance to get out – Gavin hadn't known what to do. The last thing he wanted was to betray Geoff, but when Shadles had said he wouldn't have to actively work against the man – would just have to bring Edgar the work he'd done so far so Geoff couldn't use it – that had been the turning point. All he wanted now was to get out of here, go far away and just be able to  _breathe_ again, to escape that sense of panic and danger that had been looming over him for too long.

And he was sorry – he  _was_ – he knew the others would be angry, but he needed this – perhaps, he thought dimly, the way Ryan had needed to go after Edgar – he needed to get out or he was going to go mad.

Taking a deep breath, he started up the car again. He'd driven a couple of times before, out of necessity on jobs, but he didn't have a license. Luckily the country roads out here were wide and empty, but he knew the others would be out looking for him by now.

They'd expect him to head straight for the city, he reasoned – so he took the opposite direction instead, intending to catch a bus back the other way. Hopefully it would throw them off a little.

_They'll hunt you down,_ a small, paranoid part of himself thought.  _Maybe when they find you they'll kill you_ .

He bit his lip. The thought made him feel sick for some reason, in a way that the usual overwhelming presence of danger didn't normally. Even if he didn't think this a betrayal, the others probably would. And Geoff had been nice to him before – but he knew what happened to people who crossed him. Not to mention Ryan, who he'd gone and bloody whacked over the head. He felt vaguely bad about that – he hadn't wanted to actually  _hurt_ any of them, but at the same time it had kind of felt good. To lash out, to hit someone. Especially after what Ryan had done to him.

And that abandonment had stung, more than he'd expected it to – because Ryan had been so  _lovely_ before that – gentle and, and caring and like nothing Gavin had ever expected from the man. And the kiss...

_Don't think about the kiss._

 

* * *

 

 

He drove for some time more. There was no sign of the others. Finally having reached his bus stop, he abandoned the vehicle and sat at the stop to wait. This far out busses were few and far between, but according to the sign one should come in twenty minutes or so. He'd just have to hope they didn't catch up to him by then.

He pulled Ryan's phone from his pocket. They'd switched accidentally and when he realised what had happened he'd sped up his escape, expecting them to head back and try to stop him – as they had. Now he fired off a message to Shadles letting him know to contact this number instead.

Sitting there, exhausted and high-strung and shaking, he stared down at the phone in his hands and was struck by the sudden urge to call Dan.

God, the only thing he wanted now – the thing he needed most – was to speak to at least  _one_ person he was certain he could trust. Who knew everything that had happened – and Dan was his bloody  _lifeline_ , the one person whose presence made him feel undoubtedly, unconditionally  _safe_ .

But Dan was hard to contact nowadays, thanks to a combination of time zone difference and too many fake cellphones and moving about all the time.

He'd said he would come back – but that wouldn't be for another few months.

_Maybe once I'm out I should go back to England_ .

Thinking about it – having a solid plan for the future rather than staring into it as a swirling void of potential  _danger_ and  _pain_ and even death – that made him feel a bit better.

_That's right. Once I'm out of this I'll go back to England. Edgar won't be able to find me there, surely – or Geoff, either, if he's angry with me. I'll get out of here and go back home and Dan will be there._

And with that in mind, the bus arrived.

 

* * *

 

 

It began raining heavily as the bus made its way through Achievement City, what began as a miserable dribble soon developing into a torrential downpour. The darkness that rolled in with the clouds made the city seem dangerous, menacing – Gavin glanced over his shoulder uneasily as he disembarked. He was paranoid that the others had tracked him down somehow, that they were on their way here for him now. Every car or pedestrian passing by made him flinch, expecting someone to jump out and try to stop him at any minute.

But no one stopped him – no one spared him a second glance as he made his way down the street towards his apartment, hood pulled up against the rain.

There was always something strange about going back home after having left for a job. God, it was hard to believe it had barely been a fortnight since all this started, so much had happened. The apartment building, an unobtrusive little block in a suburban part of the city, was quiet and disconcertingly _normal_ as he went inside.

He felt like he'd been gone much longer than he had been, but being back in this familiar place brought him no comfort. Shutting the door behind him and switching on the lights, he looked around – everything was just as he'd left it. Bed unmade, the sheets in a tangled sprawl. Drawers left half-open from where he'd packed in a rush before leaving with Geoff. A fuckload of empty liquor bottles strewn across the kitchen counter and filling up the rubbish bin.

He entered the room and paused, staring at the bed. For a moment he wanted nothing more than to crawl in under the sheets and just _hide_ , from everything – just close his eyes and pretend he was a child again, that nothing he couldn't see could hurt him. God knows he'd spent enough time doing that over the last few months.

But he forced himself into action, turning away from the bed and opening the backpack he'd brought with him to dig out a bunch of USBs and hard drives.

Gavin was not stupid. He didn't trust Edgar or Shadles as far as he could throw them. He _hoped_ their offer was genuine – and God, it had to be, he had to be able to get out – but he wanted some insurance. So he fully intended to hide the data, confirm the deal, and then get a head start out of there before contacting them to tell them where it was so they could pick it up once he was a safe distance away.

He had used his own skills at finding people to make sure _he_ couldn't be found if he didn't want to be – only Burnie and Dan even knew where he lived and he'd kept everything completely off the radar. That made the apartment as good a place as any to hide it.

He ended up stashing the hardware in the bottom drawer of a tallboy where he'd stored all the stuff Dan had accidentally left behind before he went back overseas, leaving it nestled on a pile of shirts and stray socks and assorted rubbish.

He hesitated in the doorway. If he went through with this – if he left this apartment now, went to give the key to Edgar – this was the last time he'd ever be in his home.

_Home_ .

Was it, though? He'd not lived here for too long, about a year perhaps – before that he'd moved around between England and America, never staying in one spot for more than a couple of months due to jobs or fear of being tracked down.

And this place did not hold particularly good memories.

It was where he had... recovered, or tried to recover. That kitchen was where he'd had all his drunken rages, that couch where he'd sat all night letting the television burn into the back of his eyelids, trying desperately not to fall asleep – but it was also where Dan had held him every one of those nights, in his strong and comforting embrace, whispering  _it's okay_ and  _I got you out of there, B_ and  _he's dead now, I killed the bastard, he can't ever touch you again_ .

So leaving it still felt like saying goodbye to something important – but time was running out and there was no time for nostalgia.

He locked the apartment after him and went back out into the street.

It was still raining heavily as he paced down the road. By now the others would have gotten to the city. They were probably on the prowl, looking for him right that moment. Glancing about, he thought it prudent to hide out somewhere to make the call, and after looking around a bit ducked into a nearby store.

It was a relief to get out of the rain. He shoved his hood back, running a hand through his already mightily dishevelled hair. He'd picked the shop at random – some sort of antique home wares supplier – and it wasn't until he turned around that he realised the little, wizened old lady behind the counter was staring at him.

His immediate reaction was paranoia – that she'd recognised him somehow or secretly worked for Geoff or was otherwise about to confront him – but her expression quickly twisted into something like concern.

“You alright there, love?” she asked.

“What?” Gavin replied, taken aback. “I – fine, I'm fine.”

“You sure? You need me to call someone?”

“What? I... no? I'm just...” He waved a hand lamely around at the goods. “I'm, uh. Just browsing. Looking for a present. For my... mum.”

She looked very disbelieving at this, but gave a slow nod. “Alright. Just call me if you need anything then.”

With a somewhat sheepish smile, he ducked away into the narrow aisles. It wasn't until he came face to face with an antique vanity and got a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror that he realised exactly why she'd seemed so worried. He looked a complete bloody mess – the bruises on his face from where the guard in the Corpirate's house had hit him were still horribly dark in the centre, but beginning to spread yellow at the edges. He'd long gotten used to their dull ache, but he hadn't realised quite how bad they looked as they slowly healed. Add that to the dark bags under his eyes, the hollow gauntness of his face, and the way he was shivering from a combination of cold and nerves – well, it wasn't exactly a pretty sight.

_I'm a mess. This is killing me. This is why I need to get_ out _._

He pulled his phone out and called Shadles. The other man picked up after the first ring.

“Free?”

“Shadles,” Gavin replied. “I'm out. I'm in Achievement City.”

“Good,” Shadles said. “Ramsey after you?”

“Probably? But I haven't seen him since I left. I don't think he knows where I am yet.” A pause. “I get to pick the meeting spot.”

“Of course. Anywhere that makes you comfortable.”

Somewhere public. Somewhere close to a police station.

“The store Edgar pulled his first heist in, the one Geoff was originally going to hit. There's a Supermart just down the road from there. In the square outside that.”

“Sure thing. I'll see you then."

“Okay,” Gavin said.

Shadles hung up, and Gavin stared at the phone for a moment. His hand was shaking, a horrible mixture of guilt and nerves gnawing at his stomach. Turning, he left the store – the worried eyes of the clerk following him and somehow only serving to make him feel even worse, like a liar and a fool and a disappointment to society.

_I'm not betraying them. Geoff didn't even pay me yet – I'm just his employee. I need to leave for my own good._

The meeting spot he'd planned was a little distance away, but he had no bus ticket left and would rather stay on the move than faff about buying one and then waiting at the stop, so he began to walk, the rain still beating down on him, cold and miserable.

He got about three blocks before he turned into a quiet street and heard the screech of brakes behind him.

Turning, he flinched as a black car pulled up behind him and a man in a mask jumped out. He'd barely made to turn and run before a strong arm was looping around his waist, dragging him back, and a rag was clamped down hard over his nose and mouth.

The thick, cloying smell of chloroform hit instantly and he knew enough to try and hold his breath, struggling, tugging feebly at the man's arm. But he was already being pulled back towards the car, and the man's grip was strong over his face – before long he was forced to gasp in a breath. A dizzy lightheadedness set in immediately; he felt his feet stall and stumble as they grew numb. The last thing he felt was the man lifting him up and pulling him into the back of the car before everything went black around him.

 

* * *

 

 

“When we find him I am going to fucking beat the shit out of him,” Michael said, fingers drumming agitatedly against the armrest of his seat.

Geoff glanced over at him, and Michael scowled.

“I mean it. How much will it fucking take to show him that we're not gonna ditch him? Fucking Team Nice Dynamite my ass, I can't believe he still thinks that I'd abandon him – that _Ray_ would abandon him-”

He broke off, voice cracking a little as he realised he was getting far too worked up about this. Geoff looked over at him again and then gave a small, tired smile.

Michael was worried. He did not often worry, and usually it was over Ray, but God damn if the thought of Gavin alone out there somewhere wasn't playing at his nerves right now. And if he was angry, so sue him, he had a right to be – he hadn't gotten Gavin out of that mansion only for him to go and hand himself over to Edgar on a fucking platter.

And maybe there was guilt, lurking in there somewhere – maybe, he couldn't help wondering, if he'd been nicer to Gavin from the get-go the other might trust him more now.

But there was no use pondering over what-ifs and might-haves now. Normally he'd push his worry aside in favour of proactivity, but that was a little hard when they were _fucking stuck in traffic_.

They'd made good speed to Achievement City, but now it was raining like a bitch and traffic had slowed to a crawl. The bad weather was only compounding Michael's bad mood.

Geoff had been oddly quiet the entire drive. Michael knew he was stressed as fuck too – Ray was the same, he could tell. Both of them had gotten close to Gavin quickly.

“Anyway,” Michael continued – and he was talking too much, he knew, but somehow he couldn't stop. “I can't believe he managed to fucking _take out Ryan_. If he'd wanted to he could have killed him right then and there while he was unconscious. Can you imagine that? Fucking _Gavin_ being the one to take out the mad mercenary. It would be _hysterical_.”

“Mm,” was all Geoff said in response to that – and the line of cars finally began to move again. Michael fell silent, turning to stare out the window again, watching raindrops slide down the glass pane under the force of his glare.

 

* * *

 

 

Michael hadn't seen Burnie in quite a long while. They'd spoken over the phone a bunch of times, Burnie contacting him to put him in touch with people offering jobs and such, but otherwise Michael and Ray had enough regular clients of their own to keep them quite busy.

“Geoff, Michael!” the man exclaimed – they hadn't thought to call ahead, and he looked quite surprised to see them. “Dude, come in the back. Didn't think I'd see you guys for a while.”

“Are you busy right now?” Geoff asked – out of courtesy more than anything else, Michael knew he had enough wield that even if Burnie had been doing something, he'd have dropped it if asked.

“Nah,” Burnie replied. “What's up? Where're your other halves?”

“Jack and Ray are busy with something,” Geoff said. “We need your help.”

“Need me to find someone to do a job for you?” Burnie asked, and Geoff shook his head.

“It's about Gavin, actually.”

Burnie frowned at that. They had reached the office by now, and he gestured for them to sit on the couch. There was a stack of files at one end and the remaining room was just small enough that Michael's knee brushed against Geoff's when they sat down.

“How's it going?” Burnie asked, abruptly. “The job you were all working on. Bringing someone down, weren't you?”

“It was going really well,” Geoff said. “Gavin was efficient as dicks until, you know, he freaked out and ran off on us.”

Burnie's eyebrows rose. “That... doesn't sound like him.”

“Not blaming him,” Geoff said, “Something scared him off, but we need to find him. He could be in danger. So you need to tell us where he might be going.”

Burnie looked thoughtful – and legitimately upset. Michael figured he was probably quite close to Gavin; some of his contacts were just people he knew vaguely – Michael and Ray among those – but others he tended to get closer to, making them his first port of call when he needed to refer them to someone for a job.

“Thing is,” Burnie said after a minute, “It's not like he has family here or anything. All the places I can think of are back in England.”

“What about friends? People he's worked with before?” Geoff asked.

“The last time I spoke to him – before I called him in for you – was just after the last job he took. I'd heard it went wrong and I was worried. When I checked up on him he was with another guy – not one of my contacts – some mercenary he'd met on that last job. They seemed close. His name's Daniel Gruchy, but last I heard he'd taken a job back across the pond.”

“What do you know about his last job?” Michael asked, abruptly, and Burnie frowned.

“Not much. I don't pry into these things, you know that. I know I called him in to help some guys who wanted to get back at someone who'd betrayed their group. They were a little group of wannabes – kinda like that guy you hate, Geoff, Felix or whatever his name is – and one of them had turned tail and joined another group and busted some weapons deals that they had going on, so they wanted to take him out. Gavin was gonna help track him down. Only it turns out this guy they're looking for is friends with this bigwig named Barry.” His mouth twisted. “Fucking nasty piece of work. Involved in smuggling and shit. Anyway, Barry went after them.”

“Gavin said they all got out, though,” Geoff said with a frown.

Burnie nodded. “So Gavin goes off the radar for a couple of weeks. Then the next thing I hear, he's back home with Gruchy and word on the street is that someone killed Barry. He tells me he's too rattled by it all to take jobs for a bit. I don't know what happened. I don't _want_ to know what happened. But Gruchy's the only person I can think of that Gavin might go looking for if he's in trouble, and, well, he's back in England. So the only place I can suggest you go checking out is the airport.”

“He's not going to the fucking _airport_ ,” Michael spat – this was all so _useless_ , he'd hoped Burnie might know the sort of places Gavin would go to make the deal with Edgar, or hide outs and city haunts he frequented.

“Michael,” Geoff warned, putting a hand on his knee. Michael fell still and Burnie's gaze darted between them suspiciously.

“I can give you the address to his apartment,” Burnie suggested quietly. “It's near here. And who knows, he might contact _me_ – I'll be sure to let you know if he does.”

“That's all I can ask for. Thanks,” Geoff said, and Burnie nodded.

 

* * *

 

 

Gavin's apartment was only a ten minute walk away; and even less of a drive. It was odd, how normal looking the block of flats seemed. Then again, the apartment where Michael and Ray lived was much the same.

“You think he might be in here?” Michael asked, quietly, as they made their way up to the unit number Burnie had given them.

Geoff bit his lip. “Can't tell, dude,” he replied. They stopped outside the door.

It was locked, naturally, and Geoff pushed ineffectually at the handle for a few minutes.

“You know how to pick locks?” he asked Michael.

Michael scoffed. “Of course I know how to pick a fucking lock. Would be a lot more exciting to blow it, though.”

“Sure,” Geoff said, rolling his eyes, “If we want all the police in the world to come down on our heads.”

“You're no fun,” Michael muttered, but it didn't take him long to get the door open.

It became very quickly evident that Gavin was not at home; the apartment was dark, quiet and still. Michael paused in the doorway, feeling oddly like he was trespassing. It was far from the first time he'd broken into someone's abode, but this was _Gavin_ – having lived in close proximity to him for the last couple of weeks, it was strange suddenly being in his private space, in the place where he'd spent so much time before his life crossed ways with Michael's.

Geoff flicked on the light and immediately tensed.

“What?” Michael asked, on the alert, hand already going to his gun.

“Look,” Geoff said. He pointed to the floor and Michael looked down – the carpet was spotted with damp patches. “Someone was here. Recently.”

“We didn't bring that in with us?”

“We drove here, we didn't get that wet.” Geoff crouched down and felt at the carpet, then nodded. “It must've been Gavin. If he walked from a bus stop he would've been soaked. He can't have left that long ago.”

“There's like, a hundred fucking places he could have gone from here though,” Michael pointed out – it would be little use setting out to search the city. What they needed was something definite, something to tell them where he'd gone.

“Why would he come back here if he wasn't planning on staying?” Michael mused.

“Change of clothes?” Geoff suggested. “Or he needed something.”

“Picking something up or dropping something off. Either way, he might've left something that can help us track him down.”

Geoff nodded, and for a moment they lingered very awkwardly. Despite the situation – despite how many times they'd done similar things before – it still felt like an invasion of privacy to be poking around in Gavin's flat. Michael knew if their positions were reversed he'd hate for Geoff and the others to be messing about in his stuff.

But they didn't have much of a choice, so after a while they set about it.

Michael moved into the kitchen first. He frowned a little at the sheer number of liquor bottles – all of them empty – that were lying about the place. The bin smelt terrible, obviously Gavin had forgotten to take it out before he went to join Geoff – and when he opened the fridge there was very little in there.

There was a computer setup in the main room, but all of it was powered down and missing pieces that Gavin had taken with him to Geoff's house. Eventually Michael gave up searching and went to join Geoff in Gavin's bedroom – their most likely bet anyway.

“You find his porn yet?” Michael asked – except Geoff turned to him with a sheepish sort of grin, and Michael's eyebrows rose. “What, seriously?”

“Who the fuck even reads magazines nowadays,” Geoff said, rolling his eyes. “Tech savvy guy like him, you'd think he'd just look things up online. Maybe there's a shortage of g-”

“Jesus Christ, I already know more than I wanted to,” Michael cut in, shaking his head. He turned towards the tallboy and started pulling open drawers. When he reached the bottom one he paused with a frown.

“Geoff,” he said – and the other man moved over to him.

Michael picked up the stack of hard drives and USBs. “This is stuff from the house. Gavin took it with him.”

“Why'd he stash it here?” Geoff asked. “I thought he was going to give it to Edgar?”

“No, he's being smart,” Michael said. “Hand it to Edgar and he's handed over all his cards. Make the deal first, give Edgar the key – then get a safe distance away and text him the address to pick it up. It makes sense. Except if Ryan's right then Edgar's planning on grabbing him anyway.”

Geoff frowned. “Still doesn't help us work out where he is.”

“What time is it?” Michael asked – and Geoff checked his watch.

“It's been a couple hours now.”

Michael felt a bit sick. “I hate to be the one to say it, but it's been too fucking long. If Edgar _had_ let him go he'd've sent someone to pick this up by now. I think we're gonna have to operate under the assumption that he's got him.”

“God damn it.” Geoff turned and kicked the wall, hard enough that a chunk of plaster fell out.

Michael felt that churning worry ache at his stomach again. He took the drives out of the drawer and absently rifled through the clothes and items they had been stacked on top of.

“Hey,” he said, pulling out a t-shirt and holding it up. “This can't be Gav's. It's too big.”

Geoff glanced at it, then shrugged. “Didn't Burnie say that Gruchy guy was staying with him?”

“Well, he's left a bunch of his stuff here.” He rummaged through the rest of it – t-shirts, socks, boxers. A packet of bullets. A sudden thought struck him. “Wait – d'you reckon he's Gavin's _boyfriend_?”

“What?” Geoff's head whipped around. “The fuck gave you that idea?”

“Well, his stuff's here so they were obviously living together. And there's only one bed.”

“Maybe he crashed on the couch, I don't know. What does this have to do with anything?”

Michael shrugged. “Just fucking curious.” He hadn't even bothered to think of whether or not Gavin was single. Had sort of just assumed he was, the way most of them were – Ryan hadn't been joking when he said it was hard dating in this business. For all that Michael despised his cynical outlook on things, he was right that you had to either trust someone who was also a criminal, or risk dragging innocent outsiders into crap.

But realising that this mercenary friend of Gavin's was obviously close enough to share such a small space with him – that they might, in fact, have been intimate – that just raised so much curiosity in him. Since they'd gotten closer after the Corpirate incident Michael couldn't help wondering more about the other man; where he'd come from, the other jobs he'd been on – and knowing this Dan Gruchy was such a seemingly close part of his life naturally had him wondering what he was like.

Geoff sighed. “Well, we won't get anything else from here. I'll tell some of my people to watch the streets, see if they notice anything. But Edgar's been a sneaky bastard so far, I don't doubt he's covered his tracks. Maybe the others had more luck back at the house.”

It was a weak hope; they'd've texted or called if they had, but Michael nodded, getting to his feet.

 

* * *

 

“Who are you texting?” Geoff asked.

They were halfway back to the house and the rain still hadn't let up; the windscreen wipers doing double time in an effort to keep the glass clear. Michael glanced up from his phone and frowned a bit.

“Ray. He and Jack're headed back as well now. They found the car he took by a bus stop. But no sign of him anywhere around, so...”

Geoff nodded, sighing – it seemed their suspicions were correct then. There was no way they could intercept Gavin before he found Edgar now – their focus would have to be on hoping he was still alive and rescuing him.

Michael looked down at his phone again, and his frown deepened. Again, that mixture of fear and concern had him talking when he'd otherwise probably have kept his thoughts to himself.

“Ray's worried as fuck, I can tell. It's... kind of weird, actually.”

“What's weird?” Geoff asked, which sort of forced him to explain.

“How quickly he got close to Gav. You know Ray, when he's not on a job all he does is like, lie around playing Xbox. I'm basically his only friend. He just never really got close to other people before, even when we worked with them on jobs. That's why I found it so strange that he would stick up for Gavin all the time.”

Geoff harrumphed. “So that's why you got jealous, then?”

“Shut the fuck _up_ , I wasn't jealous,” Michael snapped, more out of habit than anything else. “Besides, we're all over that now.”

“It's okay, you know,” Geoff said, his tone suddenly dropping into something softer, and Michael glanced at him sidelong. The sudden shift had him uncomfortable – almost embarrassed.

“What's okay?”

“To admit that you like him.” There was a teasing smile playing at Geoff's lips now, and Michael felt his face beginning to flush.

“Of course I like him,” he spluttered. “He's my best friend, isn't he?”

“Jesus Christ, Michael, you are living in the biggest fucking state of denial I've ever seen-”

“I don't know what you're talking about.” Except he _did,_ that was the problem, and they were thoughts that had been playing at his mind for the last few days – ever since Ryan had brought it up, then Geoff – since Ray himself had returned from his trip suddenly softer and gentler and oddly affectionate – like he was t _esting the waters_ or something and _oh fucking God_ , Michael realised with dawning horror. It was true. Somewhere along the line he had, somehow, developed a major fucking crush on Ray and _Ray fucking knew about it_.

Geoff was watching him with something akin to amusement, but Michael could barely care as he sat, struck by this revelation, unsure if he should feel horrified or embarrassed or-

“Wait,” Geoff said suddenly, “You didn't – oh my God, are you only just realising now that you like him?”

“Shut the fuck up Geoff,” Michael croaked, but Geoff was laughing now – not meanly, not even teasingly. Almost affectionately. And his laugh had always been contagious, and suddenly – and a little hysterically – Michael couldn't help laughing as well. More at the absurdity of it all than anything else.

“He fucking knows, doesn't he? Michael asked. “He knew I liked him even before I did.”

“And what do you think he's been doing about it?” Geoff prompted – and Michael realised that perhaps all along, it had been fear holding him back – fear that everything would change, fear that Ray would be disgusted or embarrassed and everything would be ruined.

But he already _knew_ , and, if anything, they'd been getting along _better_ since. And suddenly it didn't feel so much like everything was going to change horribly. Suddenly there was a range of possibilities opening up before him and he didn't quite know what to do.

Geoff sighed, then, reaching up to wipe at his eyes. “Ahh, God, now you guys can finally stop dancing around each other and fucking _do_ something about it.”

“You mind your own business,” Michael warned, but still couldn't quite help but smile.

And he was still scared – still didn't quite know how he felt, and he definitely had a lot more thinking to do – but despite the situation, despite Gavin still being missing and the pressure they were all under – he felt, at least, a little bit of hope.

 

* * *

 

 

They got back to the house before Jack and Ray did, and headed down to the basement. Ryan was sitting in front of the computers, looking at grainy road camera footage of cars passing by. He turned around as they approached.

“How's the head?” Geoff asked, and Ryan waved a hand.

“Fine,” he replied. “You find anything?”

Michael tossed the bag of drives onto the table. “He hid this stuff in his apartment but he wasn't there. We think Edgar's got him.”

Ryan slammed his fist against the desk with such sudden harshness that Michael couldn't help but jump.

“God _damn_ it,” Ryan hissed – low and venomous – and Geoff and Michael exchanged glances.

“You keep doing what you're doing,” Geoff said. “Michael, help him out if you can. I'm gonna call my people back in AC and let them know to be on the look out. If anything suspicious pops up we'll be the first to know.”

He headed back upstairs and Michael tentatively pulled a chair up next to Ryan. The other man was still turned away, shoulders hunched over, seething in some internal rage. For all that Michael was still annoyed at him for what had happened back at the Corpirate's place, he certainly seemed concerned for Gavin's wellbeing now.

“Hey,” he said, when Ryan still didn't move. “You know Edgar better than all of us. Where might he be?”

Ryan let out a long breath. Then he straightened up, gaze fixed on the computer screens. “I don't know. He's fucking _crafty,_ he probably has hideouts everywhere.”

A moment of silence. Ryan still seemed distracted, and, taken by a sudden, absurd moment of camaraderie, Michael reached out and tentatively poked at his arm.

“Dude. Fucking chin up or whatever, we're going to find him.”

“You guys don't get it,” Ryan grumbled, and Michael scowled.

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“I keep telling you Edgar is bad, Edgar is terrible – you don't _get it_. I'm not just saying these things. Words just can't express how fucking _messed up_ he is. I don't throw the word 'psychopath' around for the fun of it.”

Though his voice was frustrated there was something else in his tone – a deep, underlying _fear_ , and it sent chills down Michael's spine.

“What... what do you mean?” he asked, an odd sort of dread filling him.

Ryan turned to him, blue eyes boring into Michael's behind the mask. “We kill people,” he said. “But we're not brutes. And there are brutes out there, but even they – even they have at least _some_ sort of line. Even they hit a point where what they're doing makes them feel sick, or they know there's a limit they can't cross – whether it be women or children or fucking skinning someone alive. There's a _limit_. But Edgar... Edgar doesn't have limits.”

Michael tried to swallow but all the moisture in his mouth seemed to have spontaneously evaporated.

“The thing about him,” Ryan continued – almost lost in thought now – “Is that it's not even that he's a sadist. He doesn't get _joy_ or pleasure or anything out of what he does, he doesn't fucking get off on it like some people do. There's just – nothing. He feels _nothing_. He _wants_ things – power, territory, to cause people pain – but it's like he doesn't have any fucking emotions at all. And that makes him the most _God damn_ terrifying person I know, because it means he will do literally _anything_. You can't predict his movements. He never bluffs.”

“How...” Michael cleared his throat, tried again. “How do you know all this? How did you encounter him before?”

Ryan stiffened, turning away sightly – and Michael could tell that he was about to close off again, to turn into Haywood the terrible, Haywood the expressionless – the moniker rather than the Ryan that Michael had seen the face of.

And just as he'd been seized with curiosity about Gavin, so he was about Ryan – suddenly realising that if he didn't reach out now he'd never understand what this man was made of – and he didn't know why he _wanted_ to, but on impulse he reached out and grabbed Ryan's shoulder, turning him back towards him.

Ryan grabbed his wrist and for a moment Michael was certain he was going to just snap it then and there – but he held on, speaking quickly.

“Dude,” he said, “I want to _know,_ okay, I want to understand – I was pissed at you, sure, for ditching Gav that night – so you owe it to me to at least tell me why. I mean, I already know what you fucking look like, you might as well spill the rest of your deep dark secrets.” This last bit added teasingly, and for a moment Ryan's grip tightened on his wrist – then he let go.

“I know,” he said quietly, “Because I've seen him do it before. I've seen him go after someone the way he's going after Geoff. And he didn't stop until every last person in his way was dead.”

“Were you in his way?” Michael asked, and Ryan nodded.

“The only reason I got out is because of this mask,” he said, gesturing. “He doesn't know my face so he can't hunt me down. I went into hiding for a bit. Moved across the country. Waiting until I could find him and get my revenge.”

_Revenge._ Somehow Michael knew then that it wasn't just about Edgar trying to kill Ryan. These people – the ones Edgar had gone after – he must have been close to them. And what was it he'd told Gavin?  _I have worked with others before_ .

Ryan was staring at him and all Michael could do was give a slow nod – showing that he understood what Ryan wasn't saying.

“Okay,” he said. “Okay. I get why you went after him at the mansion. Fuck, I'd've done it too if I had that big a grudge against him. Still makes you an asshole. But I get it.”

Ryan relaxed visibly. There was something far too human about the motion. It almost made Michael uncomfortable, after having held the image of him in his mind as an untouchable legend of death and destruction for so long.

“Good,” Ryan growled.

“It's not gonna happen to Gav,” Michael added. “We're gonna find him. Geoff Ramsey and the mad mercenary on his tail – Edgar doesn't stand a fucking chance.”

“You know,” Ryan said, quietly, “I never liked that name.”

“What? The mad mercenary?” Michael questioned.

Ryan nodded. “I get where it came from,” he mused. “I have no qualms about killing or hurting people if need be. No one knows anything about me. But I'm not  _mad_ . Like I said,” he added. “I have limits.”

“Well yeah,” Michael replied, “But ' _the mysterious mercenary with limits_ ' doesn't exactly strike fear into the hearts of men.”

“Apparently I don't strike fear into the hearts of men anyway,” Ryan muttered. “Since as you so aptly pointed out, Gavin wasn't scared of me in the slightest. At least he wasn't originally,” and there was something almost guilty in his tone now, “I think he might be now.”

“We're gonna get him back,” Michael repeated, firmly, and Ryan nodded, straightening up.

“Yeah – yeah. Can't let Edgar win again, after all.”

“That's the spirit.”

“Also,” Ryan said, and jabbed a thumb at him warningly, “If you let anyone know we had this conversation I will have to kill you.”

“Sure,” Michael replied easily, “Can't let it get out that you're human, after all.” Fuck that, he was  _totally_ going to tell Ray.

Ryan snorted.

And then, after a moment's pause, “I'm sorry.”

Michael blinked a few times, confused. “For what?”

“Going off at you guys for starting that fire. You were trying to help. I appreciate it.” He paused. “And for grabbing you afterwards.”

“Jesus Christ,” Michael said, shaking his head. “This whole time I've had an image of you in my head as this, like, monstrous tough guy who kills anyone who crosses him, but you're actually a giant fucking softie aren't you?”

“Hey, I'm self aware enough to know when I've been a dick,” Ryan said, but there was something almost endearingly awkward in his tone, and Michael had to laugh.

“Whatever. Just so you know, if you do it again I will actually punch you. Also, you're totally never going to live down the fact that Gavin managed to knock you out with a fire extinguisher.”

“Understood.” Ryan turned back to the screens and sighed heavily. “I don't know where to fucking start.”

Michael bit his lip, all humour draining away as he remembered exactly what they were working on.

“Will Edgar move him far?” he asked. “Will he take him out of the city?”

“Probably not,” Ryan replied. “He'll be confident enough in his ability to work right under Geoff's nose.”

“So he's probably still in or around AC somewhere.” Michael shook his head, letting out a huff of breath. “Hopefully not farther out than we went to kill Clarence.”

Ryan stiffened suddenly. “Clarence,” he said.

Michael blinked. “Yeah, what about him?”

“He was in charge of finding hideouts, safe houses, storage units – all the places Edgar needs to do shit,” Ryan said. “I took his phone when I killed him. I think Gavin was working with it – trying to come up with all the places he might have been using. I don't know how far he got but everything he'd started on is probably on these drives. It's a starting point, at least.”

Michael nodded, glad to have a solid plan. “Yeah – yeah. That's a good idea.” He turned and pulled the bag over towards him, rummaging through hard disks and USBs with a frown. “Couldn't have fucking labelled them, could he.”

 

* * *

 

 

It took them a little while to just sort through the files; Gavin's systems were a disorganised mess and some of them they weren't sure how to use or access. But finally Ryan managed to dig up a bunch of information Gavin had pulled from Clarence's phone and the data he'd already dug up on the man. There was the beginnings of a list of locations and a few clues leading towards others.

It was a slow process looking through them. Driving out to each one manually would take far too much time, so they were stuck slowly calling in friends and contacts of Geoff to go check them out for them, or using their limited tech skills to check out street cameras and such. Ray and Jack had come home by now, exhausted and despondent, but as they worked deep into the night Geoff eventually told them to go and get some rest while he and Ryan continued to work.

Mounting the stairs, the three of them lingered for a moment.

“If Edgar has him it's been like. Ten hours by now,” Ray said, face pinched with worry.

Even Jack looked a little disconcerted by that. “Well, at least we know he hasn't split on where the house is, or Edgar would be here by now.”

“Jesus Christ, Jack, him splitting on where the house is is the last fucking thing I'm worried about,” Ray snapped, and stormed off to his room.

Michael lingered awkwardly, and glanced at Jack, who looked a little taken aback.

“I didn't mean to be insensitive,” he began, and Michael let out a huff of breath.

“I know, man. Ray's stressed, that's all. We should all get some rest. I'll see you in the morning,” he said, and Jack nodded, heading off.

Michael went to his own room and sat on the bed. He rested his head in his hands and sighed heavily. Fuck this was messed up. He couldn't stop thinking about Gavin. Where he was. If he was hurt right now. Whether he knew they were trying to find him. Knowing him, he probably thought they weren't. Fuck. _Fuck_.

The knock at his door was quiet, but it still made him jump. He got up to open it and blinked as he found Ray standing outside, looking painfully awkward – shoulders hunched and tense, leaning stiffly against the door frame.

“Hey,” Michael said quietly. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” Ray replied. “Mind if I come in?”

“Dude, of course.” He shifted over, ushering Ray into the room.

Ray sat on the edge of the bed, and after shutting the door Michael moved up and threw himself down beside him. The motion made the mattress bounce and Ray, already perched precariously, lost his balance and fell to the floor.

“Michael why,” he said, with mock despair, and Michael snorted out a laugh.

“Sorry,” he said, moving over on the bed so Ray could climb back up and sit next to him, side by side with their backs to the bed frame. They sat in silence for a moment before Michael turned to him with a small frown.

“Seriously,” he said quietly, “are you okay?”

Ray nodded, fiddling with the zipper of his hoodie.

“Yeah,” he repeated. “Just worried. Kind of didn't want to be alone right now.”

Michael had no idea what to say. Reassuring platitudes weren't really his thing, never had been.

“We'll get him back.” He'd been saying it a lot lately, as though repeating it over and over would make it true.

“Yeah,” Ray replied. “It's kind of... strange. I mean, normally if someone we were working with on a job went missing, I wouldn't be too bothered. Maybe because jobs haven't run this long before, or we haven't been under this much pressure, but. It's weird. I haven't cared about someone this much in a while. Not since... not since you, really.”

“Ray...” Suddenly Michael's heart was beating a lot faster, nervous and he didn't know why.

“I do care about you, you know,” Ray said. He still wasn't looking at Michael, shoulders practically up around his ears. “I know we don't normally like. Say it and stuff. But if we go after Edgar and something goes to shit I wanted you to know.”

“Fucking Christ, Ray, I don't... nothing's going to happen,” Michael replied, feeling a little uneasy now. “Don't fucking talk like you're saying goodbye or whatever. That's what messed Geoff up, you know, Gavin talking shit like that before he ran off.”

Ray snorted. “I'm not going anywhere. I just want you to know in case-”

He broke off – and suddenly Michael realised that this wasn't about Edgar at all.

“In case what?” he asked, tentatively.

“In case everything changes,” Ray said – and the words were barely out of his mouth before he was suddenly in front of Michael, hand curling in his hair, pulling him forward and pressing their lips together.

Their mouths met in an almost painful clash of teeth, and for a moment Michael froze – he was pretty sure his heart actually fucking _stopped_ – and Ray went tense against him, the hand in his hair loosening as he started to pull away – and then it was like everything slammed into Michael at once; a rush of affection and excitement and – and _love_ , and this wasn't even something he knew he wanted until earlier that afternoon but it was as though a missing piece had fallen into place.

His hands came up to angle Ray's face better, finally kissing back – and he felt the tension leach from the other's body as he leaned into the embrace.

When they finally broke apart, breathing heavily, they both looked down, almost embarrassed – and Michael knew suddenly that this moment, right here, right now, after the kiss – this would make or break them. If things were uncomfortable – if they didn't make a decision right now – they'd just go back to how they were before, pulling apart from each other, not communicating, awkward and unsure.

“Hey,” he said – quietly, nervously, and Ray glanced up at him.

“Things have changed,” Michael said – and saw Ray stiffen. “But for the better,” he added quickly, and after a moment Ray broke into a grin, letting out a rather hysterical laugh of relief.

“Jesus, you scared me for a second.”

“Scared _you_? You're the one who just planted one on me without warning,” Michael barked. “God, that was...”

“Intense,” Ray said, fiddling with his hoodie again.

“That's one way of putting it.” And they were both smiling now, with the heady relief of having averted some sort of crisis, Michael wasn't sure what.

“So,” Michael said. “I, uh...”

“You have a giant flaming crush on me,” Ray teased, and Michael shoved at him, face flushing. “And guess who noticed it first?”

“Yeah, I get it, I'm an idiot and you're apparently more perceptive than you let on.”

“Nah, man, it wasn't me – I'm just as oblivious as you were,” Ray said. “It was Ryan, actually, he was all _he's jealous of Gav because he likes you_! Fucking mad _matchmaker_ more like.”

“Fuck Ryan,” Michael said immediately, “Just for that I'm gonna tell you that today he turned into a giant sap and apologised for being mean and shouting at me after I set the Corpirate's mansion on fire.”

Ray broke down snickering.

“Guess it all turned out alright though,” Michael mused with a smile. “Well in that case-”

He broke off as there was a thudding knock on the door, glancing at Ray before sliding off the bed to go and answer it.

“Yeah?” he demanded, pulling it open – it was Jack out there. Michael fought not to blush as he watched the other man raise his eyebrows, taking in his dishevelled hair, his reddened lips – and then Ray sitting on the bed behind him.

“Get down to the basement,” Jack said. “Ryan's found Edgar.”

 

* * *

 

 

“He's by the bay,” Ryan said grimly, “I don't know where exactly but he's there.”

“How'd you know?” Michael asked, crossing his arms – and Ryan turned, gesturing at the computer screens.

“Gavin would have found this in ten seconds,” he said, “I'm a little slower. I crossed off a bunch of the Clarence properties and all the ones that were left were on this side of the city. So I monitored some road camera footage and caught sight of that damn duck on the wharf. The cameras didn't cover everywhere so I don't know where it went, but they're definitely in that area.”

“Alright,” Geoff ordered. “We head over and look around. We'll split up – Michael, you're with me, Ray, you're with Ryan. Jack, you hang back and snipe, keep us covered. Let's move, people.”

They bustled off to gather their equipment, but most things were laid out already and it didn't take long. Michael paused as he headed for the front door, Ray coming to a stop beside him.

“We'll talk when we get back,” Ray said.

Michael nodded. “When we get back _with Gavin_ ,” he added, and that had a slight smile tugging at Ray's lips before he reached out, hesitantly, and squeezed Michael's hand. Michael squeezed back.

“Hey,” Geoff called out, glancing back at them. They pulled apart a little too slowly, but Geoff didn't comment, just raised his eyebrows. “Get your little asses in gear, we have shit to do.”

 

* * *

 

 

It was an ungodly hour of the morning by the time they reached the bayside in Achievement City, it having taken a little time to drive there despite their defying the speed limit.

Michael was on edge as they split up and began driving slowly down the bay, inspecting buildings for any signs of nefarious activity. He drummed his leg agitatedly, hand running over the bag of explosives on his lap as Geoff brought the car up alongside a dark, empty sardine factory.

“Maybe he's on a boat,” Ray commented, through the earpiece.

“They all look empty,” Geoff replied, turning out towards the water. “Jack, where you at?”

“I'm up around the side, near the wharf,” Jack said. “Checking out the boats with the rifle scope now- what the fuck was that?”

“What?” Geoff demanded instantly.

“Two guys just came out of a building and chucked something in the water. Looked like a body but it was quick, I couldn't tell-”

Michael's heart _dropped_ , the prospect of Gavin being dead hitting him all of a sudden. He heard Ray draw in a sharp breath through the comm.

“Where are they going?” Ryan asked.

“Back into another building – shit, the light's on, I can see through the window. Let me just adjust this scope.”

“Jack,” Michael prompted, as there was a pause.

“Oh, fuck,” Jack said then. There was a rustle from his end, the slamming of a car door. “Guys, I'm going in.”

“Jack,” Geoff snapped, “What the fuck's going on? You're going in alone? What'd you see?”

“Edgar was in there, Gavin too – but he's killing him right now, it looked like he was choking him.” Jack's voice was quick and panicked, accompanied by the thud of running footsteps. “It's a restaurant on the east side of the bay, you can't miss it – got a big yellow tarp out the front.”

“Jack, don't go in there alone-” Geoff broke off in frustration as he spun the car around. “God damn it. Just get Gav out of there, alright? And for fuck's sake keep us posted. R n' R, you guys coming around?”

“Heading there,” Ryan replied.

“Doesn't look like there's too many guards here,” Jack said. “Two of them. They're heading back in now, I'm gonna take them out.”

There was a gunshot, then shouts – swearing – running footsteps.

“Got one, the other's run inside – I'm going in after him,” Jack said.

“Don't do anything stupid,” Geoff said – but Jack didn't answer.

Michael grit his teeth as the car swung around a sharp turn, heading for the east side of the bay. He felt less than useless sitting here, but all they could do was move as fast as they could and hope Jack got in there in time.

 

* * *

 

 

Gavin returned to consciousness slowly and painfully.

His head was spinning. It felt like all the fluid had been leached from his brain and his skull was stuffed with dry cotton wool. Add that to the cloying, sweet taste stuck on his tongue and the dull nausea in his stomach, and he was 99% sure he was about to throw up.

He coughed a few times and sat up, flinching as light stabbed at his eyes. His head was swimming, but slowly he managed to take in where he was. He was sitting on a cold, tiled floor, in a small room with empty white walls lined with shelves. There was a chill in the air, like air conditioning. He wasn't bound, but as he slowly sat up his eyes fell on a security camera in the corner of the ceiling, and only moments later he heard the thud of footsteps outside and knew they'd been watching him, waiting for him to wake up.

He got to his feet, reaching out to brace himself against the wall as the door opened. Two masked guards walked in and stood at attention. Shadles trailed in behind them, looking just as Gavin remembered him; dark, a little scruffy, and like a total prick.

“You're awake,” he said.

“Captain Obvious to the bloody rescue,” Gavin replied, but his voice shaking betrayed his nervousness, and he saw a small smile twitch at the corner of Shadles' mouth. “What the fuck, Shadles, we had a _deal_.”

“Gavin, Gavin,” and there was a patronising fondness in Shadles' tone now, “You always were too naïve for your own good. Did you really think Edgar was just going to let you go?”

Gavin felt sick. Before he could reply, Shadles turned – and Gavin's blood ran cold as Edgar walked into the room behind him.

He looked just as he had on the security cameras, but there was something much worse about seeing him in person. He was taller and more imposing than Gavin had expected, and that cow mask... the dead white eyes sent chills down his spine, and he involuntarily took a step back.

He'd had nothing against cows before this, but if he managed to get out alive – something that was seeming less and less likely by the second – he was going to eat _so much_ damn steak in retaliation, by God.

“Gavin,” Edgar said. His voice was surprisingly cultured; low and smooth despite being muffled under the mask. Gavin was used to deciphering it, though, having hung around Ryan so much, who had a similar problem. “I'm sorry for grabbing you off the street like that.”

Gavin didn't reply. He was breathing too fast – knew it was glaringly obvious just how scared he was – but he couldn't stop.

“Oh dear,” Edgar said. “We really have gotten off on the wrong foot. It's too cold in here, let's move outside.”

The guards didn't grab Gavin, but they did stand there staring at him until he forced himself into motion, trailing after Edgar and Shadles.

He quickly realised that the room he'd been locked in was an empty, refrigerated pantry. As he looked around he registered the building as some sort of closed-down waterside restaurant. The kitchen led into an open dining area with floor to ceiling windows looking out onto the bay. It was evening by now, Gavin realised – and the rain still hadn't let up. In fact, it had gotten even worse, developing into a full blown storm, and he could see the water of the harbour swirling down below; waves lashing violently under the force of the wind.

“This used to be such a nice place,” Edgar said. He pulled up a chair from one of the round dining tables and sat down. “Shame it went out of business. Have a seat, Gavin.”

“I'd rather stand,” Gavin replied. Fear was still gnawing at his stomach but he forced himself to straighten up; to act far more confidently than he felt.

Edgar tilted his head. Then he waved a hand, and one of the guards grabbed Gavin's arm and shoved him down into a chair.

“You're here now, Free,” Shadles said. He was standing, arms folded, by Edgar's seat. “So really, all you can do at this point is cooperate.”

“I would've cooperated just fine if you'd gone through with our initial deal,” Gavin replied.

“I'm sorry,” Edgar said, “But that was never going to happen. You're far too valuable a resource for me to just let you go. But nobody has to get hurt here, Gavin. I've heard plenty about you, and it sounds like your services could be just what I'm looking for. As you've probably realised by now, Shadles has been doing for me what you've been doing for Ramsey. But that's not his forte. I could really do with someone who specialises in that sort of thing.”

Gavin pressed his lips together and didn't speak. This was what he'd been afraid of – that Edgar would try recruit him to his side.

“I noticed you don't have the data I asked for on you,” Edgar continued.

“Yeah,” Gavin said. “I hid it. In case something like this happened. You let me go and I'll tell you where it is.”

Edgar chuckled – Shadles did too.

“That's not going to happen,” Edgar said, shaking his head. “It's really, really not. Look, Gavin, I don't think you quite understand. You're not leaving here. You will either stay on as my employee or as a piece of taxidermy mounted on my wall.”

What. The actual. _Fuck._

“So tell me, please,” Edgar continued pleasantly, “Where did you put that data?”

Gavin was pretty sure he was going to faint. His heart was pounding so hard he could hear it and he was beginning to feel lightheaded. But he knew, dimly, that if he spilled even that one bit of information, then Edgar would expect more – the location of the house, everything he knew on Geoff.

And there was no way he could feign working for him, either. There was no doubt Edgar would be far more vigilant than Geoff had been, would notice instantly if he was just faffing about pretending to work.

_You don't owe them anything_ , a small, frightened part of himself piped up –  _not a God damn thing. Work for Edgar and save your skin here._

But he couldn't – he _couldn't_ betray them. Not when Geoff had been kind. Not when he knew that Edgar would kill him – would kill Michael and Ray and Jack and, and _Ryan_.

So he kept his mouth shut, and shook his head, and Edgar let out a long, slow sigh. He stood up abruptly, and Gavin flinched back.

“Do you think they're coming to save you?” Edgar asked, stepping towards him. Gavin leaned back in the chair, and Edgar moved closer – leaned in until his face was right in Gavin's. He could smell the rubber of the mask; stale and plasticky. “Do you think Geoff gives a _fuck_ about you? Because he doesn't. Even if he did, that disappeared the second you ran off on him. He think you betrayed him – if he does come after you it'll only be to kill you. There is _no way out_ of this, Gavin.”

Gavin tried to ignore him, eyes fixed directly ahead.

“Dan's not here now,” Edgar continued – and the mention of his name made Gavin stiffen, going rigid as a plank.

“That's right,” Edgar said. “I know everything that happened. No one is going to come swooping in to save you this time. You think Ray and Michael give a shit? You betrayed them as well. Oh, of course – dear _Ryan_ , your, what was it? Your _husband_?” Another chuckle. “How quaint. I know Ryan well and let me tell you this: he cares nothing for you. Only for how useful you can be in killing me. You running right into my arms like this – it'll have disgusted him. He'll kill you as soon as look at you if he finds you.”

“Shut up,” Gavin forced out – and that's when Edgar lashed out, with a ringing backhand that knocked him clean off the chair. He fell to the ground, the side of his face burning – spitting out blood where he'd bitten the inside of his cheek.

“You _know_ ,” Edgar hissed, grabbing the back of his jacket and hauling him upright, “Exactly how this goes, Gavin. I know you've experienced it before. You hold out as long as you can but then you end up giving in anyway. Like I said. Dan's not coming this time. So you can spare yourself the pain or we can go through the motions. But I promise you, I can be much more creative than Barry was.”

Gavin squeezed his eyes shut. There was an odd roaring in his ears and he knew, with a sudden sick feeling, that he was going to go into total shutdown, into the state he'd ended up in last time before Dan had come to rescue him – using all his mental prowess to just block out what was happening.

A sharp kick to his stomach brought him out of it, as he doubled over, coughing. Then a blow to the side of his head – another to his ribs, knocking him flat before they rained down over his shoulders and back.

It hurt, but at the same time, he half suspected the guards and Edgar were holding back, and when the beating finally stopped he looked up to find Edgar's bovine face staring down at him impassively.

“That's the basic part,” he said. “It only gets worse from here. Last chance.”

Mustering all his strength, Gavin spat a glob of bloody saliva towards his feet, and Edgar sighed.

“Okay,” he said. “Take him back to the room.”

The guards grabbed Gavin's arms and hauled him to his feet. He stumbled between them as he was escorted back to the pantry, shoved roughly to the floor with the door slamming shut behind him. A moment later the lights went out, leaving him in total blackness.

_Oh, God_ .

He let out a shaky breath – curled in on himself, nursing his bruised ribs and sides. Fear, worry, all of it still stabbed at his stomach – but worse than that was the knowledge that  _no one is coming, no one is coming –_ he couldn't quite bring himself to believe it. That it was probably going to end for him here and now, after pain he didn't even want to think about.

 

 

* * *

 

 

He wasn't sure how long it had been when the door finally opened again. The cold of the pantry had worn into him by then, leaving him numb and shivering, and when he got to his feet he stumbled back against the wall.

He knew instantly that something was different.

The lights were on in the kitchen area of the restaurant and when the guards pulled him in, he realised that Edgar was not alone. The duck was standing by him, as tall and menacing and utterly horrific as always. She had her gun trained on a figure kneeling at her feet, hands bound before him, a sack over his head.

“Gavin,” Edgar greeted. The guards had dragged him forward and flanked him, keeping a tight, bruising grip on his arms. “Have you reconsidered?”

Gavin just stared at him, eyes lidded, and after a moment Edgar tutted.

“Alright then. I'll deal with you in a minute, I have a little business to take care of that I thought you might be interested in watching.”

He turned and whisked the sack from the man's head. He was an unobtrusive little fellow; a middle aged white man with greying hair and the sort of face no one would remember. There was a gag around his mouth, and Edgar leaned forward and plucked it out.

“-please, please,” the man half-sobbed, “I'm sorry, I won't – it won't happen again-”

“Gavin,” Edgar said, “May I introduce you to the Corpirate's former head of security. Now, you were very clever breaking in as you did, but I always expect my men to be cleverer. Needless to say, I was not very impressed that you and Haywood managed to get in without him noticing.”

The man's eyes darted to Gavin and shot him the most hateful, murderous look Gavin had ever seen. He flinched back, and the guards' grip tightened painfully on his arms.

“Ducky,” Edgar said – the simple childishness of the name only serving to make it _even bloody creepier_ – and the duck grabbed the man and hauled him to his feet, frogmarching him across the kitchen to stand in front of one of the counters.

It was then that Gavin realised why, exactly, it was so warm in here – he had thought that it was just him, after the coldness of the pantry – but now he noticed that one of the deep fat fryers was on, the basket filled to the brim with boiling, bubbling oil.

_Oh God no Jesus fucking Christ no no –_ every possible variation of what Edgar could be about to do slammed into him at that moment. He was pretty sure he actually blacked out for a second, because the next thing he knew Edgar was in front of him, slapping his face lightly.

“Gavin,” he said – distressingly soothingly - “Come on, don't be like that. I want you to watch. You  _will_ watch,” he added, rather more menacingly.

Gavin could only stare at him. He felt oddly detached from his body, like it was someone else he could hear gasping wheezing breaths. Like it wasn't himself who was shaking so hard that he was practically spasming.

The former head of security had realised at the same time what was going on, and he began to scream, struggling to shake free of the duck's grasp.

“Edgar – Edgar, I'll do better, it won't happen again, it won't-”

“Tell me how they got in,” Edgar ordered. “Tell me what you did wrong.”

The man opened his mouth, but at that moment Edgar nodded to the duck and she grasped the man's arm and plunged his hand into the boiling oil.

Gavin turned his head away, squeezing his eyes shut – but there was nothing he could do to block out the screams. The next thing he knew, there was a hand fisting in his hair, wrenching his head viciously around.

“I told you to  _look_ ,” Edgar said, calm as ever – and something about that was so terrifying that Gavin forced his eyes open in time to see the duck pull the man back. He collapsed to his knees, sobbing, cradling his burned arm against his chest.

“Not good enough,” Edgar said. “Come on, look at Gavin – he bested you, after all.”

The man's eyes lifted to meet Gavin's, but they were glazed over with pain now and he appeared to be on the verge of passing out.

The duck hauled him up, bending him over the counter until his face was only inches away from the hot oil.

“Try again,” Edgar said. “Tell me what you did wrong.”

But the man, it seemed, was past talking – he murmured unintelligibly, his teeth chattering together loudly, and after a moment Edgar sighed.

“In that case,” he said, “I'm sorry, but I'll have to terminate your employment.”

And, with a nod to the duck, she pushed his head down.

Gavin did not look.

He squeezed his eyes shut, even when he felt Edgar's grip on his chin, trying to turn his face to get him to watch. He focused on the way his lungs were heaving in gasping breaths and his heart was slamming in his chest and for some reason – for some reason his mind flew to Michael, to his voice low and reassuring in Gavin's ear back at the mansion.  _What's something you like? Cats and Team Nice Dynamite_ . He had been scared then too. But he hadn't been alone.

The ringing slap knocked him clean from the guards' grip to the hard, tiled floor of the kitchen, and his eyes snapped open to see Edgar looking down at him.

Reality slammed into him then.  _You're alone now._

“When I tell someone to watch something,” Edgar said, “It really is very rude for them not to.”

There was a thud as the duck dropped the man's body to the ground.

“Deal with that,” Edgar said, nodding to the guards. They left, picking up the corpse and carrying it out of the room, leaving only Gavin with the two animals. He picked himself up slowly.

His panic had faded slightly, and if anything he felt numb. Numb and cold and shocky, and his heart was still pounding so fast he couldn't feel the individual beats anymore.

Edgar moved up behind him and Gavin didn't dare turn to look at him. Looking at the duck was even worse, though. There was something very unnatural about those teeth. He fixed his gaze on the floor but couldn't help but flinch when Edgar's arms suddenly snaked around him, hands coming up under his shirt to touch his stomach. His fingers were dry and very cold as they ran lightly over the raised tissue of the scars. Gavin shivered, squeezing his eyes shut. _Stop touching me._

“You are not new to this,” Edgar said in his ear. Gavin couldn't move, stood frozen and still. _Stop_ touching _me._ “You know how this goes. First I hurt you – but not too much. Then, I scare you by hurting someone else. You know step three. Step three is where I hurt you _worse_.”

There was a pause, Edgar waiting expectantly, the room silent but for the morbid bubbling of the oil and the slow ticking of a clock on the wall.

Gavin had no idea what to do. His mind had gone white-blank and he didn't think he could tell Edgar where the data was even if he wanted to.

_Geoff's not coming,_ Edgar's voice rang in his head suddenly. _Dan's not here now._

And he could roll over, he could give up, he could hope for Edgar to kill him quickly –

_You're better than all that, B_ . It was Dan's voice he heard now – triggered, perhaps, by having returned to the apartment earlier that day. Because maybe Geoff didn't believe in him anymore, but if Dan was here – if Dan was here, he'd be pushing Gavin not to give up.

So no one was coming to save him. He could escape by himself, or die trying – he could, at the very least, try and buy himself some time.

When it came down to it, it was very easy – he was already hyperventilating, he was already wracked by anxiety so intense that his whole body seemed to ache. All it took was forcing himself to breathe a little faster – all it took, in the end, was forcing himself to think back to how Edgar had just killed that man which  _Jesus Christ no that was horrible as fuck no no no_ – and he was able to push himself over the edge into a panic attack.

He played it up. Though he loathed to touch the man, he forced himself to stumble back until he hit Edgar's chest, feeling the man's arms tighten around him in surprise. Then he crumpled to the floor, curling in on himself – gasping loudly, making his limbs loose so that they looked like they were shaking as much as possible.

Because when he was hit by these things – he couldn't talk, sometimes. The first few weeks after he got home he would wake up at night wracked with fear – this was before he learned not to sleep – and Dan would race in from the next room. He'd ask if he was okay, if he was in pain, he'd reassure him that he was there. Would hold him, knowing that for Gavin at least, human touch was better than empty nothingness. But Gavin would be unable to reply, jaw clenched so tightly his teeth ached, unable to open his mouth if he tried.

And he did that now. Clenched his teeth and kept his mouth shut and his head down, hoping Edgar would realise that he was too panicked to talk and would leave him alone, at least for a few hours.

Unfortunately, it seemed Edgar had a very, very misguided idea about what to do in these sorts of situations.

“Get the fuck up,” he said – still very calmly.

And then, when Gavin did not, he grabbed him by the shoulders and hauled him to his feet, slamming him against the wall.

“Stop that,” he said. And when Gavin didn't, he repeated it louder - “ _Stop that_.”

When that failed, he seemed to think that violence was a brilliant idea, and his hands clenched tight around Gavin's throat.

This was not part of the plan at all. Gavin had not expected him to be stupid enough to think attempting to  _choke_ a panic attack out of someone was a good idea, but who knew what ran through that guy's mind – he reached up and clawed at Edgar's wrists, but the man held fast, his grip tightening.

“You will _tell me where the data is,”_ Edgar ordered.

Gavin actually _was_ blacking out now – his vision going white at the edges, his throat and lungs on fire as he struggled to pull in a breath. His head was starting to feel light and fuzzy, vision warping at the edges –

“Edgar!” a voice yelled – and Edgar twisted around, grip loosening as one of the guards ran into the room only to cry out and fall as a shot hit him in the back.

Slumped back against the wall, gasping raggedly for breath, his vision swimming – Gavin looked up to see Jack framed in the kitchen doorway. Relief slammed into him like a truck.

_They came. They bloody_ came _._

There was a moment of frozen silence as Edgar, Jack, and the duck all stared at each other. Then Jack launched into action, taking in the situation at a glance – before Gavin even realised what was happening he was pulling a lighter from his pocket, flicking it on, and tossing it into the vat of oil.

A streak of fire flared up, and the duck flinched back. Jack fired his gun at Edgar, who dived sideways – and Jack ran forward, grabbing Gavin and practically tucking him under his arm as he dragged him through to the next room, the dining area.

“There's-” Gavin's voice cut off in a strangled croak as his throat protested. “There's nowhere to go from here! There's no back door!”

“Fuck,” Jack cursed – and the duck and Edgar were coming after them now, guns raised and firing. He still had Gavin pulled tight under his arm, practically crushing him against his side as he ducked away from the bullets.

“Okay, Gavin, this is gonna suck, hold on to me really tightly,” he said.

“What are you doing?” Gavin cried-

And then Jack jumped out the window.

He shot it, first – fired a bullet at the floor to ceiling glass before launching himself at it, crashing through. Gavin barely had time to scream before they were plummeting down into the swirling tides of water below.

The impact was like being slammed in the stomach with a sledgehammer; Gavin felt himself fall away from Jack and for a moment all he could do was flail, limp as a ragdoll as the lashing waves swept him back and forth. He sucked in a breath and then choked when all he got was a bitter, salty mouthful of water. Thrashing wildly, he managed to right himself, kicking with all his might to break the surface and gasp in air, hacking wildly.

He could still hear gunfire, though it was nearly drowned out by the heavy rain and the slap of water on wood; he looked around for Jack and couldn't find him.

“ _Jack_!” he yelled.

His voice was small and rasping, that one shout setting his throat on fire with pain – and the wind caught his words, carrying them away quickly.

Then he saw it – a brief flash of what looked like a body in the water before it disappeared back underneath.

He dove towards it, kicking frantically, and just managed to grasp it before it sank too deeply. The weight nearly dragged him under too, and he fought hard to haul Jack up above the surface. Both of them were weighed down by their sodden, heavy clothes.

“Jack?” he cried, adjusting his grip – the other man was a dead weight in his arms, not moving in the slightest, and Gavin cursed as he realised that he had struck his head on the wooden poles supporting part of the restaurant balcony.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he said, spitting out water. He was working double time to keep them both from sinking, and even then shouting reached his ears.

Turning, he saw boats setting off from the nearby wharf. Little motor boats holding dark figures – Edgar had called in back up, it seemed.

He had to get them out of there.

Adjusting his grip on Jack, he frantically began to swim. For a minute he didn't know where to head, but by some stroke of luck he caught sight of a small pier nearby. Just below it was a small space. In the dark and the rain, maybe they could hide there.

It seemed to take forever to get there, but the boats did not draw too much closer. Jack was reasonably buoyant in the water, but as soon as Gavin hit the land under the pier – a tiny little alcove of sand littered with washed-up rubbish and cigarette butts – he struggled to drag him up out of the water.

Finally he managed to haul him ashore, and then pulled him deeper into the dark shadows until he hit a wall. There was little space here – the pier low above their heads, the water just lapping the sand that they were sitting on – but they were hemmed in by rocks and the pier's support poles, and he hoped the boats would pass them by.

A single, full-body shudder rippled through him – he was so numb that he wasn't even cold any more, and his stomach felt heavy and sick from swallowing so much water. But he could have laughed at that moment because _they came for him_ , he realised suddenly – they had come to rescue him –

His joy was cut short as he turned to Jack, reaching out to check he wasn't about to be washed back into the bay – and realised something.

He wasn't breathing.

 


	10. Chapter 10

Jack woke up coughing, with a pain at the back of his head, an uncomfortable, heavy pressure in his chest, and the strange feeling that someone had just been kissing him.

“Oh thank God,” a familiar British voice said – and he felt cold hands on his back and shoulders, turning him over onto his side as he hacked up what seemed to be the entire bay. And then threw up, for good measure.

Gavin's hand rubbed soothing circles on his back as he fought to catch his breath. _What happened?_ The last thing he remembered was jumping out the window of the restaurant. Then nothing.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he took a moment to gather himself. He was wet. He was _freezing_. And his chest hurt like a bitch. Then he looked around. They were in a small, dark space, and he could couldn't quite make out where it was – but the rain outside had eased up a little and slivers of moonlight were slanting into wherever-the-fuck-they-were. Everything looked greyish and eerie, but he could see Gavin sitting next to him, resembling nothing so much as a drowned rat. His eyes were huge and wide with relief.

“Thank God,” Gavin repeated, his voice shaking. “I thought you were dead.”

“What happened?” Jack asked, reaching up to touch his head and wincing massively. His hand came away sticky with blood, which, y'know. Wasn't good.

Gavin smiled faintly. “Uh. We jumped in the water but you hit your head and sort of... drowned? You weren't breathing. Had to give you the bloody kiss of life and all that.”

“Wow. Okay. You can fucking call it CPR you know.”

“Yeah,” Gavin said. “That. Well, we're under the pier now and there're guys on boats out there looking for us. Looks like Edgar called in back up.”

“Right,” Jack said. He made a passing attempt at standing but stopped with a sharp gasp as pain stabbed through his chest. Gavin's hands were quickly on his shoulders, pushing him back down.

“Don't try and move,” he said. “You're probably concussed and I don't bloody know what else. Are the others here?”

It took Jack a moment to recall, which, yeah, probably meant concussed. “Yes,” he said finally. “They are. We split up along the bay, but I told them where I was going. They're probably looking for us as we speak.”

Gavin let out a long, slow breath. “Okay,” he said then. “Okay. We wait it out.”

There was a moment of silence.

Jack didn't think he had ever been so cold in his life; he was shivering violently, his clothes heavy and sodden around him. Matters were not helped by the sharp breeze blowing in under the pier from the inclement weather that was still raging outside. He could hear Gavin's teeth chattering behind him.

“Are you okay?” Jack said suddenly, realising he probably should have asked earlier. “Did he...?”

“I'm fine,” Gavin replied, with a weak sort of grin. “Roughed me up a bit but nothing... nothing too bad. Actually I'm top.”

“You're _top_?” Jack asked. “Looked like he was seconds away from snapping your throat when I busted in there.”

“Well yeah, but. You know,” Gavin said – and looked down now, his next words close to a mumble. “You _came_.”

Jack paused. And then he realised what he meant, and turned around abruptly, rounding on Gavin. The other man flinched back violently at the movement, which probably spoke far more about his mental state than any amount of ' _I'm fines_ '.

“Yeah, a _bout_ that,” he growled, “What the _fuck were you thinking_?! Running off to Edgar like that? Did you seriously believe he'd let you _go_? Jesus Christ, Gavin, why would you-” He broke off when he saw how the other was cringing back, all traces of a smile wiped from his face, and forced himself to relax a little. To sink back down against the damp sand – and a moment later the shouting had him breaking into a horrible coughing fit, that odd pressure rising up in his chest again until he was sucking in ragged, wheezing breaths between coughs.

Gavin crawled over to him, a hand reaching out tentatively then drawing back. But when Jack continued to cough, he seemed to gather his courage and reached out to thump at his back – which actually helped, because a moment later more water shot from his lungs.

“I'm sorry,” Gavin said – something like pleading in his tone. “I'm bloody _sorry_ , okay, I didn't – I was stupid, I know that. God knows people tell me it enough for it to get through my head by now. But I... I got scared, I didn't...” He trailed off, swallowing audibly.

“I really didn't think you guys would come,” he said, in a small voice.

Jack felt his anger drain away abruptly, maybe from exhaustion, maybe from the raw, almost childlike desperation in Gavin's tone. He let out a heavy sigh, suddenly feeling nothing but _tired_.

“Anyway,” Gavin continued quietly after a moment. “He wasn't going to kill me. Not until I'd told him what he wanted.”

Jack blinked. “You mean you didn't?”

“What?” And Gavin sounded indignant now. “Jesus, no! Of course not! I wouldn't sell you guys out like that!”

“You really didn't tell him anything?” Because the thing was – the thing was, Jack had been _sure_. When it came down to it, Gavin really didn't owe them anything at all, wasn't nearly close enough to them to have the sort of loyalty that let a person hold up under torture. And Jack had seen it before – people selling out Geoff as soon as they got the chance, or a better offer, or to save their own skins. When you had as many enemies as they did you had to pick your friends closely and wisely. You couldn't just trust every Tom, Dick and Harry you hired for a job.

“No,” Gavin repeated. “And I never intended to. That's not why I left. I...” he broke off, looking away. “I might have. Eventually, if he. If he'd hurt me worse, I mean, I can't lie. I don't know what was going to happen. But it didn't get to that, and I. I _tried_ , okay?”

“Okay,” Jack replied, simply – and Gavin glanced at him, eyes meeting his in the darkness for a brief moment before darting away.

“Are you angry?” he asked, after a minute.

Jack sighed heavily, running a hand over his face. “Yes. No. I don't know. Geoff is – but not because he thinks you betrayed us,” he added quickly, as alarm flashed over Gavin's face. “Because you didn't trust us enough to believe that we weren't gonna ditch you. That's... that's what the others are all mad about.”

“Oh,” Gavin said, and let out a heavy breath with something like realisation. “I... I'm sorry.”

Another silence.

Jack pulled his knees up to his chest, jamming his hands under his armpits in a useless attempt to preserve some warmth. His own teeth were chattering now, and he felt vaguely sick, the dank smell of the bay water raising nausea in the pit of his stomach.

Beside him, Gavin couldn't stop fidgeting, crossing and uncrossing his legs, wrapping his arms around himself.

“Edgar killed someone,” he said abruptly. Jack looked over at him. His eyes were unfocused, gazing out into the darkness. He looked almost lost. Like he was barely aware he was talking and the words were slipping out anyway. “He... he killed someone really, _really_ badly.” A half-hysterical laugh. “I can't stop thinking about it?”

Something uneasy started up in Jack. He felt like he ought to reach out, or say something, but the words wouldn't come.

“I didn't realise that... that people could be that sick,” Gavin continued. “I mean. People do bad things. But not like that. Not something that... horrible.” Another huff. “I didn't spill on you. But I was scared. I've been scared for a bloody long time. That's why I ran from you guys. I needed to just get out, to... not feel like that anymore, at least for a bit.”

“Gavin...”

“I don't cry, you know.” He said it matter of factly, something oddly clinical in his tone. “Not since I was a kid. I don't know why, I just... it's not something I do. Sometimes I wish I could because otherwise it just... stays inside. It stays inside.” He looked down, wrapping his arms tighter around his body. “A lot of bad things happened. A _lot_. Ryan knows. And he left me anyway and that – that's why I ran.”

“What do you mean, Ryan knows?” Jack asked – but Gavin just shook his head before resting it on his arms, turning his face away from Jack.

In that moment Jack felt any residual anger and annoyance he might have held draining away. Because Gavin just sounded worn down now, like he'd seen too much, been through too much.

It had been easy to dislike him when he was just a loose cannon, a liability, a faulty product that Burnie had fobbed off on them. It was much, much harder when they were sitting here, alone, shivering in the cold together and a jagged edge to his voice like broken glass.

His chest heaved again, more coughs rising in his throat as he doubled over, struggling to draw a full breath between hacking gasps. Gavin scooted over to his side again, rubbing his shoulder helplessly.

“That, um, doesn't sound good,” he said, tentatively.

“It's too cold,” Jack stated – the others hadn't come yet and his earpiece was dead silent; broken from the water, or maybe it had fallen out – he couldn't muster the energy to reach up and check.

“We don't... we can't make a damn fire or anything,” Gavin started. “But you're right, we're gonna freeze to death. It's dangerous, especially for you, I think you're sick.”

A thought came to him, rising sluggishly from the depths of his mind, something half-remembered that he'd heard at some point but couldn't quite recall where or when.

“Take your clothes off,” he said.

Gavin drew back from him a little. “Um. _What._ ”

“Our clothes are wet. It's making it worse. We need to get them off. Or we'll both catch our death.” He was already moving to undo the buttons of his shirt, though it was hard, his fingers were shaking so much.

Gavin had pulled back by now, looking at him with something like alarm. “I don't... you're having a laugh, right? That's not... Jesus Christ, okay, you're actually undressing.”

“We're both shaking like fuck, Gavin, I can barely feel my fingertips anymore.” He finally got his shirt open, shrugging it off his shoulders. “Now's not the time to be shy.”

“I don't...” Gavin flailed helplessly for a few minutes – but upon realising that Jack was, indeed, going through with stripping off as he moved to pull his tank off over his head, he sighed, shoulders slumping in resignation, and began to unzip his own jacket.

Jack curled in on himself. It actually felt – well, not warmer, but less-cold without his wet clothes clinging to him. By now he had reached the point of barely being able to feel anything anyway.

“I think I heard somewhere that sitting back to back transfers the most body heat,” he began, turning to Gavin – only to freeze as he watched the other man pull his shirt off over his head.

Scars.

His back was covered in scars – big enough, bad enough that even in the dim darkness of the pier Jack could see them clearly. He saw Gavin tense as he heard the words died in his throat, arms moving to wrap around himself as he turned around. There were more on his chest, and for a moment Jack felt sick.

“That... that wasn't Edgar,” he began – they looked far too old – and Gavin shook his head. And Jack could see him starting to freak out, could hear the way his breath was picking up – he quickly shifted over on the ground, turning away from him.

If Gavin didn't want him to look, he wouldn't look.

“Come on,” he said. “Back to back.”

Gavin hesitated, but after a moment Jack heard him settle behind him, and a second later the cool, trembling skin of his back pressed against Jack's. Neither one of them was nearly warm enough to be generating any sort of heat, but Jack felt far less cold than he had sitting around in his wet clothes, so they were doing something right at least.

_But those scars._

Everyone else in the house had basically been walking on eggshells around Gavin since the Corpirate's mansion, and it was fairly obvious from what Michael had told them about what happened that there was more to him not wanting to go into the field than pure cowardice. But this – somehow, Jack hadn't expected _this_. Hadn't quite thought to look past Gavin's generally lighthearted demeanour to the possibility that things weren't as peachy as they seemed.

“Is that what you meant by _Ryan knows_?” he asked suddenly, the thought striking him.

Gavin was so silent for a moment that Jack thought he was just going to ignore the question. Then he felt him take a shaky breath.

“Yeah,” he replied, quietly. “He saw. When we were sharing a tent that one time.”

“Does he know the full story?”

“No one knows the full story,” Gavin said. “Just me and Dan and... well, apparently Edgar and Shadles found out somehow.” He let out a somewhat pained noise and Jack felt something ache within him. And he'd accused Geoff of having a soft spot for Gavin – but damn if he himself wasn't starting to get concerned now.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked.

“What do you care?” Gavin shot back instantly.

The words felt like a test. Jack wondered if Ryan had pushed, if he'd tried to find out more.

“I care,” Jack said. “I'm not... I'm not _heartless_ , Gavin, far from it. Jesus. I find you annoying as fuck sometimes, not gonna lie, but. I was worried when we thought Edgar had gotten you. My boyfriend has basically latched onto you like a mother duck. Whatever Edgar put in your head – whatever whoever gave you _those_ put in your head – we all care about you.”

It took saying it out loud to realise it was _true_ – somewhere along the line, they'd _all_ gotten closer. Gavin was still tense behind him, but Jack could tell he was listening with rapt attention.

“There are other ways to let things out than crying,” he continued, softly. “And there are things you can't just ignore or they eat away at you. The things Geoff and I have done – some of the shit we've seen – you try deal with it on your own, it'll drive you crazy.”

More silence.

When Gavin did speak, it was so quietly that Jack had to strain to hear above the whistle of the wind and the soft lap of water against the sand.

“I... it was on the last job I took. Some guy had turned on his friends – they were a small crew, pretty close-knit – and he'd ruined a couple of weapons deals they had going. So they wanted me to help hunt him down so they could kill him. They thought he was running with another gang so they brought in a bunch of mercenaries for extra manpower – Dan was one of them. He and I got pretty close, I don't know, we got on well.”

A shaky breath.

“Anyway, it took me a while to find him. He kept moving around, he'd gone underground – then he finally popped out and they went to intercept him, only it turns out he wasn't running with another gang, he was with some smuggling kingpin called Barry. Way bigger and way more dangerous than anything we'd expected. And as soon as the guys I was working for realised he was after them they just...” he trailed off, helplessly, and almost involuntarily Jack found himself reaching back around him. Fumbling in the dark until he found Gavin's hand and squeezed it reassuringly.

“They just _left_ me.” It came out in a rush of breath. “You wonder why I need special precautions all the time? Because these guys took _none_ , they didn't give a _fuck_ about what happened to me. They split as soon as they could and didn't so much as bother with me. I was just – expendable, now that I'd done what they needed me for. Just bait for Barry to find so that he'd be satisfied and not get after them. And it _worked_ , he found me, and – he was pissed that we'd killed a couple of his guys, so he took it out on me. And then found I could be _useful_ , so I was forced to work for him for a bit.”

There was raw anger and pain in his tone and Jack could feel his heart sinking with every word. He and Geoff had cycled through a lot of employees, hired guns and consultants over the years. And even if they'd never gotten _close_ to them, Geoff had been a good boss, for what it was worth – had always done what he could to ensure their safety. Had never left someone behind on a job.

And _fuck_ , no wonder Gavin had run, given what Ryan had done to him. Given the way Jack and Michael alike had had a go at his need for extra security.

“But you got out of there,” he said, quietly, and felt Gavin nod.

“I got out of there,” he repeated, dully. “I thought I was a goner. That he was gonna kill me or I'd just be – stuck there for the rest of my life, working for him. But then Dan showed up. He thought I had run along with the others but when he realised I had gone missing, well, he worked it out and came to find me. And he killed Barry and got me out of there. Can you believe it? He was literally just the hired gun, not even someone I was working for. And he was the only one who gave a damn. That's why I trusted Ryan at first, you know, he – reminded of me of him. Guess I thought he'd play the same role.”

“Gavin...”

“It doesn’t matter now, anyway.” He pulled his hand from Jack's. “Dan got me out. And I went back home and he came with me and I... recovered. I guess. Except I... I wasn't really scared of anything before, but now I'm scared of practically _everything_. Of getting caught, and pain, and being _alone_. I can't sleep. God damn it, I shouldn't – I shouldn't have taken this job with you because now it's fucked us all over-”

And here was the thing – Jack might be more cautious than Geoff, he might get annoyed easily, but if he was one thing it was _kind_ – Michael and Ray had wormed their way into his affections easily, and fuck if Gavin hadn't too, over the course of the last, like, twenty-five minutes.

He turned, grabbing Gavin's shoulders abruptly.

“Listen,” he said, firmly, “You _haven't_ , okay? You didn't fuck us all over. You said Edgar knew about this? Shadles too? They played on that, Gavin – that's not your fault. And we can hardly blame you for it when Ryan contributed as well. When _I_ contributed. To making you feel unsafe, or like you couldn't trust us – that's on us, okay? Not you.”

Gavin just stared up at him, something almost hopeful in his eyes.

“And we _came_ for you,” Jack continued. “”We didn't even think twice about it. The others have been worried sick. Geoff cares about you. Ray and Michael would probably kill anyone who looked at you the wrong way. Even Ryan told me he was trying to apologise to you for what happened.”

“And you?” Gavin asked, almost a whisper.

Jack swallowed.

“I care too,” he said. “So you don't have to be scared, okay? I know that won't stop you being, but. Just know that you're not alone. The shit that happened with your last group, it's not gonna happen here. Even if you don't trust _me_ – trust _Geoff_. Okay?”

“Okay,” he replied – and sounded like he believed it, too. It seemed just the act of their coming after him had been reassurance enough.

There was a slightly awkward pause as they sat, staring at each other in the dark. Then Jack reached forward and pulled Gavin against his chest in a crushing hug. He felt the other's arms come up and pull tight around his back. And they were still both shaking, bare skin cold and clammy where it was pressed against each other, and he could feel the rough scars on Gavin's back under his hands – but he could also feel Gavin's heartbeat, pounding fast against his, a steady if rapid thrum, _still-alive still-alive still-alive_ – the soft “ _thank you_ ,” the other murmured against his ear – that was enough for now.

 

* * *

 

Jack had identified the restaurant as on the east side of the bay with a yellow tarpaulin out the front. This description proved to be very unnecessary. Ray and Ryan – who had arrived more quickly than the others, being closer by to start with – could tell instantly which building it was, as it was the only one currently burning to the ground.

“What the fuck is up with you people and setting things on fire?” Ryan growled, as he brought the car up to a stop.

“You guys there?” Geoff asked, sounding strained. Jack's earpiece had cut out some moments ago. They'd heard gunshots and sounding and a brief snatch of what sounded like Gavin's voice. Then shattering glass, and nothing.

“Yeah,” Ryan replied. “The whole building's alight. There's no way they're still in there.”

“Look,” Ray said, pointing. A bunch of cars were pulling up along the harbour, a little way away, and a group of men getting out. It seemed that Edgar had had reinforcements nearby, and as they watched they moved towards a deck of motorboats and started heading out along the bay.

Ray and Ryan got out of the car, heading for a footbridge leading down onto the beach, just out of vision of the others.

“There,” Ray hissed suddenly, catching a flash of movement near the restaurant. He grabbed Ryan's arm, turning him to face the building.

Two figures had stumbled out of a side door, accompanied by a massive plume of smoke. The duck and Edgar, it seemed – and at the sight of him, Ray literally felt Ryan stiffen in his grasp.

Ray raised his rifle. “I can take a shot at him.”

“Too late,” Ryan grunted – sure enough, some of the guards had made their way over to Edgar and were already surrounding him. There was no way they'd get a clean shot from here.

As they watched, Edgar waved a hand towards the bay, then turned away and, still escorted by his security, moved off towards a car parked out the front of the burning building.

Ray glanced carefully at Ryan. He couldn't tell what the other was thinking, just knew that he'd gone very still and very quiet.

A crackle of static in the earpiece.

“You guys find Edgar?” Michael asked. “Ryan? What's happening?”

“We found him.” Ryan's voice was quiet and harsh.

“You going after him?” Geoff asked, carefully.

Ryan leaned forward, gripping the rail of the footbridge tightly. Edgar's car began to drive off. After a few minutes he turned away and caught Ray's eye, staring at him for a long moment.

“No,” he said, voice low and grim. “It's not the time to kill him. We need to find Jack and Gavin.”

Ray heard Michael let out a breath, felt himself relax – the last thing they needed was Ryan running off on a vendetta right now.

“They're searching the water,” Ryan said then, his sharp gaze darting back to the bay. “They must have jumped in, escaped the fire that way. You guys circle around and we'll search this side.”

“Okay,” Geoff said. “Stay in touch.”

“Thank you,” Ray said quietly, as they headed down towards the beach.

“What for?” Ryan asked – and he might have chosen to stay but his voice was still low, quiet, harsh – an edge to it that Ray had heard before when he started poking into his background.

“For not leaving,” Ray replied. “For not going after Edgar.”

“It's not the time,” Ryan said grimly.

They descended onto the sand. This stretch of coast was empty and deserted at this time of night, the sour smell of sewerage and kelp hanging in the air. But out on the water there was light and noise. Most of the men were in boats by now, but a couple were still on the docks, taking pot shots at the water.

Ray wondered, abruptly, if Gavin could swim. He assumed so, but the water was still lashing and churning in the storm, and suddenly he wasn't sure where to start.

“Do you think they're still in the water?” he asked, leaning in closer to Ryan.

Ryan was watching the water with a frown. “Hard to tell. There's any number of places along the shore they could have stopped off.”

Ray raised his rifle, peering through the scope to get a closer look. The boats were starting to split off to search different areas. The water was moving too much; he couldn't see any sign of Gavin or Jack but it was hard to tell in the dark and the rain.

He lowered the gun, shaking his head. “Can't see them.”

“We need to take out some of those boats,” Ryan mused. “It'll be better if we're on both sides of the beach.”

Ray nodded up towards the men on the dock, still firing out at the water. “They'll see us if we move any closer. Gotta take them out first.”

“Hmm,” was all Ryan said, and he went very quiet again. Ray turned back to scoping out the water, assuming that the other was coming up with some sort of plan. He could hear Michael and Geoff talking quietly between themselves, searching down the other side of the bay, but tuned them out. After a few moments he took his glasses off, wiping them on the edge of his hoodie to get water droplets off – nothing was more fucking annoying than rain getting on the lens.

A hand seized his arm and he jumped, turning to see Ryan. In the dark of the night and the storm his eyes were barely visible; little more than two shadowy holes in his skull mask. By all accounts it should have been frightening, but Ray didn't feel scared.

“Do you trust me?” Ryan asked, still holding onto him. His grip was warm and firm just above Ray's elbow.

“What?” Ray asked, staring up at him.

“Do you _trust_ me?” Ryan demanded. He shifted a little, the angle bringing his face out of the shadows and into the moonlight where his eyes became visible again. Something almost nervous built up in Ray's stomach.

“...yes,” he said.

It was true. God help him, he had no idea _why_ , but he did trust Ryan.

“Okay.” Ryan released him to point across the beach towards a pier just a little way beyond the restaurant. “I need you to run over there. That way we can shoot from both sides, take out some of the boats and get a better look around.”

The pier was a good hundred metres away. Ray's gaze darted over to the men on the dock.

“They'll see me,” he said. “I won't be able to shoot at them on the run.”

“I'll cover you,” Ryan replied. “They'll be distracted when they see you move and I can take them out.”

Ray hesitated.

“What's going on?” Michael asked suddenly, having caught onto part of their conversation.

“Nothing,” Ray replied. “We think they're somewhere in the water. Trying to get across to have a better look.” He glanced up, met Ryan's eyes again. “Okay. Let's do it.”

Ray turned. He took a deep breath and then ran.

Running on sand was not easy. It felt like the longest 100m of his life. He felt bullets whistle past him, piercing the sand by his feet – Ryan's breathing heavy in his ear – but none of them struck him, and the gunfire had died down by the time he, panting, reached the pier.

“Took them out,” Ryan grunted. “You okay?”

“Fine,” Ray said, turning back to look at him – the men who had been up on the dock had vanished, presumably now lying dead on the floor. But the firefight had drawn the attention of the men in the boats, and the closest few were already turning to aim at Ray.

He took them out with relative ease, having the advantage of both the high ground and a more long-range weapon. Unfortunately, a misfire seemed to hit the engine of one of the motorboats, and the whole thing exploded in a pillar of flames that quickly had all the other, more distant boats turning to see what the commotion was.

“Oh, crap,” Ray said. “I got a bunch of people heading towards me.”

“I'll come over to you,” Ryan replied. “Let me just look around here quickly, make sure they're not hiding on this side.”

“Yeah,” Ray said, ducking back behind the columns of the pier. “No rush, there's only half a dozen guys with guns running towards me.”

He stopped to reload, peeking out in time to see one of the boats dock and the men get out. They were making a beeline for him, and he shot down two of them before he was forced to duck back again behind cover.

Fearful of ending up surrounded, he snuck down the side of the peer, staying on the move as he managed to take down several more. By now the others had reached him, though, and he was caught off guard when one of them came out from _under_ the pier, taking a shot at him and missing before throwing a punch instead.

Ray ducked the blow, pacing backwards as he struggled to raise his gun in time – in his peripheral vision he saw another two guys closing in under the distraction – when suddenly a swift shadow moved up next to him and stabbed his attacker with brutal efficiency.

In the dark, with his mask and black jacket, Ryan looked like an angel of death. Ray had always favoured ranged weapons to knives and clubs, but Ryan moved now with such agility, almost elegancy; yanking his blade from one man's throat only to slash another's, taking down all three men within the space of a few minutes.

Ray could do little but watch, almost awestruck – _this_ was the mercenary he'd heard so many stories about, the assassin with the hundred percent success rate.

Something stirred at the back of his mind – and he realised, with no small amount of bemusement, that he almost found it _attractive_. Not the murder – God no, he wasn't that far gone yet – but the skill of it. The same way he found Michael attractive, when he was intent and focused on building a bomb, or the childish glee of his smile when he blew up something satisfying.

Ryan turned to him, blood dripping from the knife in his hand, breathing heavily from the run over. Again, Ray figured he should at least be nervous, standing under a bridge with a serial killer – but he didn't.

“Alright?” he asked.

Ray nodded. “Fine. Nice work,” he added, nodding at the bodies littering the sand. “I'm impressed. Ten out of ten. Glad I'm on your side.”

He fancied Ryan smiled at that, though he couldn't tell under the mask.

“They don't seem to be around here,” Ryan said, frowning as he looked around. There were sheds and buildings further along, and the men were beginning to search there.

“I think we're overestimating them,” Ray said suddenly, an idea striking him.

“What do you mean?” Ryan asked.

“Assuming they jumped out of the window into the water,” Ray mused, “Those guys are searching way over here, we are too – but I really don't think they could have gotten that far away? I mean, Gavin looked like shit even before he left, we're assuming he hasn't been injured since. Hitting the water from the height of that window would be jarring. And look at how like, stormy it is out there. Not easy to swim.”

“You think they're closer to the restaurant,” Ryan said, and Ray nodded.

“Yeah.” He turned back down the beach towards the burning restaurant and pointed at a second pier, much closer by. “Around there maybe.”

“It's that or they've drowned by now,” Ryan muttered, grimly, which Ray did not find reassuring in the slightest. They headed off.

“You're very...” Ryan began after a minute, and then trailed off as though unsure.

Ray glanced up at him. “What?”

“If it had been Geoff or Michael with me,” Ryan continued, “I think they would have insisted that I do the running and they do the covering.”

“Heard my name,” Michael broke into their conversation, sounding distracted. “You guys talking shit about us?”

“Yes,” Ray replied instantly. “Hey, we're heading over closer to the restaurant, you guys keep looking around the rest of the area just in case.”

“Gotcha,” Michael said, still sounding suspicious. Ray caught Ryan's eye and grinned widely.

“Maybe you're right,” he said then, in answer to his earlier statement. “But I'm pretty sure you don't want me dead just yet. If anything, I trusted you were a good enough shot to take out those guys before _they_ took out _me_.”

“Hmm,” Ryan replied.

By this point they had reached the pier; it was a smaller one, leading out from a rocky outcrop near a bunch of storage sheds and some old looking trucks. The smell of smoke was thick and heavy, hanging over the still burning building, and Ray could hear sirens faintly in the distance. It figured someone had called the fire department by now; probably the police too given the gunshots.

“Better move fast before the popo show up,” he murmured. The rocks leading out towards the pier were slippery, and he was surprised when Ryan picked his way over first before holding out a hand. After a moment Ray took it, letting the other man help him across.

“Thanks,” he said, and Ryan nodded before moving off to scan the water around them.

Ray was just turning to move across to the sheds when he heard a noise, and paused. It was faint, but by all accounts it sounded like someone have a coughing fit – and it was coming from _underneath_ them.

“Ryan,” he called, and the other man strode over, stopping in his tracks as he heard it too.

“They're under the pier,” Ryan said, already turning to jump down over the side. Ray was hot on his heels. Sure enough, there was a small, dark space between the cliff and the pier, and Ryan pulled a torch from his jacket and switched it on, ducking his head as he entered.

“Jack?” Ray called out as he followed. “Gavin- oh thank God.”

The beam of Ryan's torch fell on Jack and Gavin, crouched in the darkness, both of them flinching back at the sudden bright light. Jack was hunched over, coughing violently; Gain kneeling behind him rubbing his back. Both of them looked like _shit_ , they were practically blue with cold and wracked by constant shivers. There was blood dripping down the side of Jack's head and though Gavin was mostly hidden behind Jack's body, Ray could see dark bruising around his throat. It made something curl in his stomach, something angry and protective.

“Shit,” Ryan was saying, already stripping his jacket off, “You guys look half frozen to death. Come on, Edgar's men are searching off the other side. We need to get you to the car.”

Noticing that both of them were shirtless, Ray took off his own hoodie, hurrying to Gavin's side. Even through his t-shirt the chill of the rainy night air hit him – which fuck, fuck, it must be even worse for two people who were soaked to the bone. He handed the hoodie to Gavin and tried to help him put it on, but Gavin turned away, sinking back into the shadows out of range of the torchlight. Ray frowned, but let him be.

Ryan was helping Jack so he focused on Gavin, pulling him to his feet as soon as he was done dressing. He was shaking like hell, teeth chattering noisily, but seemed completely oblivious to the fact, like he was so cold by this point that he couldn’t even tell.

“Are you okay?” Ray whispered, looping one arm tight around his waist as he helped him out from under the pier.

Gavin gave a jerking nod. “I- yeah. Thanks for coming.”

“We found them,” Ryan was saying into the earpiece – he was moving up ahead, helping Jack along. “Heading back to the car now but I think you two should wait back here and hold the others off, make sure they're distracted so we can get away.”

“Is Jack alright?” was Geoff's first question, quick and panicked.

“Yeah,” Ryan replied, “They're both half drowned and freezing but we're getting them back home now. Meet us at the house.”

“Gavin okay?” It was Michael who asked, and Ray saw Ryan turn back over his shoulder to look at them. Ray shot him a thumbs-up, and Ryan said, “Yeah, he's okay.”

Gavin stayed huddled into his side, Ray practically hugging him as they moved along. Neither he nor Jack was moving at all fast, and it was slow, torturous work to get them up the beach to where they'd left the car, wondering at any minute if Edgar's guys still out on the water would spy them moving and come after them. But a moment later there was another explosion from one of the boats – it seemed Michael and Geoff were effectively distracting them.

 

* * *

 

“Get the heat on,” Ryan ordered, as soon as they were back inside the house. “The kettle, too.”

Ray nodded, moving quickly to obey. There was a gas fireplace in the living room which he switched on before moving to boil water in the kitchen. He heard Ryan running the shower in the next room. When he returned to the lounge Gavin was the only one in there, sitting cross-legged in front of the fire with a towel and two blankets around his shoulders. He was still pale but his lips weren't blue anymore, which was always a good sign.

“Where's Jack?” Ray asked, coming to sit next to him and handing over a cup of tea.

Gavin looked over at him and mustered a small smile. Ray watched him carefully; genuinely unsure how he was holding up. Everyone had been quiet in the car, but considering they were on the verge of passing out, that was to be expected.

“In the shower with Ryan,” Gavin replied, voice still a little shaky but edging closer to normal than it had been. “He got the worse of it I think.”

“Geoff gonna be okay with that?” Ray joked, and Gavin's lips twitched up again. Ray could barely help grinning himself; a wide, stupid grin at nothing more than the fact that Gavin at least still _had_ the capability to smile. He'd been afraid – so terribly, unexplainably afraid – of that state the other might be on his return. Smiling was a good start.

“He'll have a lot to be upset about if he isn't,” Gavin said, “Considering I kissed Jack earlier.”

“What?” Ray asked, taken aback.

“Bloody CPR and all that,” Gavin added quickly, and Ray nodded, understanding dawning.

“Ah right. Maybe start with that part when you tell him.”

Gavin nodded, turning away and wrapping his hands around the mug of tea. Ray watched him, taking him in – the sharp line of his cheek against the firelight, the yellowing bruises still staining his jawline. The deep _relief_ that settled in him at the sight of him, alive and well, was exhausting.

He reached out and Gavin flinched a little. Ray frowned, but just moved the towel away from his neck to get a look at the bruises.

“Did he hurt you?” he asked, his voice coming out lower and angrier than intended.

Gavin shook his head. “He... no, not too badly. He um.” He paused, squeezed his eyes shut. “He killed some other guy but I don't want to talk about it.”

“That's cool, man, just... tell me if you need anything. I mean it,” he added, when Gavin gave a generic sort of nod. “ _Anything_. You need food, or you want to talk, or you want to like cuddle or some shit, I don't care. Just tell me and I'll do it for you.”

“Thanks X-Ray,” Gavin said then. “You're lovely. But it's enough that you came to get me.”

“Yeah, I'm holding off on the ranting because you look tired as hell and you just had what I imagine was a horrifyingly traumatic experience, but later on we are absolutely talking about the fact that you didn't trust me enough to stick around,” Ray said – and Gavin nodded, looking away again.

Ray frowned again. He had no idea what had happened with Edgar, but Gavin was behaving almost alarmingly normally. And in Ray's experience, the longer you tried to act unaffected, the more things got bottled up inside. It wasn't healthy.

But tonight wasn't the time to bring it up, to try and start a sharing and caring session or what fucking ever, so he left it, and they sat in silence beside the fire for a while, their knees touching, before he got up to go and make some soup.

By the time he got back Jack and Ryan had rejoined Gavin by the fire. Though Gavin seemed the more battered up, he had thawed out quite quickly, while Jack still looked on the verge of drowning, huddled in a large pile of blankets so close to the fire he was in danger of being set alight.

“Got food,” Ray said, passing the bowls over, and Jack turned to him with a slight smile. His eyes still seemed a little unfocused, and Ray frowned – Gavin had mentioned him hitting his head earlier. It figured he was concussed.

“Geoff called,” Ryan said, quietly. “They're on their way back.”

“Did you see Edgar?” Gavin asked – and Ryan nodded.

“Yes. He escaped with the duck.”

Gavin blinked a bit. “You didn't... you didn't go after him?”

“No,” Ryan replied, and looked intently at him. “We were focused on finding you.”

Gavin stared at him for a moment before turning away to fiddle with his soup spoon, seeming deep in thought.

“You don't look too hot, Jack,” Ray said, changing the subject – and Jack turned to him with a mock scowl.

“Fuck you too, Ray.” Then added, in a sing-song, whiny tone, “I'm telling my boyfriend you said that!”

“Oh no,” Ray replied, “Big scary Ramsey will come after me.” He dropped the joke when Jack started laughing and ended up coughing again. “Seriously, uh, are you gonna collapse and asphyxiate in front of us or something? Because that would be... bad.”

Ryan reached out and felt Jack's forehead. He frowned.

“You have a slight fever,” he said, “And I don't like the sound of that cough.”

“I'm fine,” Jack began, but Ryan shook his head.

“God knows how much water you breathed in before Gavin pulled you out. We can't take you to a hospital, though, we'd be sitting ducks for Edgar. Nothing we can do but wait it out and hope it clears up on its own.”

He glanced at Gavin. “You – let me check those ribs, make sure Edgar didn't break anything. Last thing we need is someone's lung suddenly collapsing on us.”

“I'm fine,” Gavin said – but it was Ray who his gaze darted to, almost nervously, and suddenly Ray felt like he was missing something, was left out of the loop somehow.

Ryan shook his head. “Let me check. We can do it in the bedroom.”

After a moment Gavin got up, gathering his blankets with him, and they moved towards the stairs.

“Um, okay,” Ray said. “I'm slightly confused.”

“He doesn't want you to see his bruises,” Jack said. It was a lie, Ray could tell – but it was a strange enough lie that he didn't call Jack out on it.

“You gonna die on us?” he asked instead, and Jack shook his head with a chuckle.

“Nah. Takes more than a bit of water to get rid of me.”

“Good,” Ray said. “I'd probably miss you, y'know.”

“Aww, Ray. I'm touched.”

“Is it just me or is Ryan being remarkably nice?” Ray asked then. It had been – well, not _bugging_ him, but making him curious since they got back. “I mean, I know he's not an asshole, but normally the moment he starts showing any sign of caring he suddenly snaps back into 'detached robot' mode.”

“He is being oddly nice,” Jack agreed. “But like you said. He's not an asshole. Guess he's just not bothering to hide it anymore.”

A few moments later he got up. Ray glanced at him, confused, and Jack smiled.

“I'm tired as fuck and the others don't look like they'll be back for a bit. Gonna go have a lie down.”

“Don't go to sleep if you're concussed,” Ray said.

“Don't worry, I won't.”

He headed back, and Ray pulled out his phone, realising he had missed a text from Michael just a couple of minutes ago.

' _On our way back, might be a bit late b/c we're worried about being followed.'_

' _OK_ ,' Ray typed back, ' _see you in a bit.'_ Except he paused before sending it, suddenly wondering if he should add something more.

Now that they weren't running on adrenaline, fuelled by the urgency of the rescue mission or worry about the others, the memories of the kiss he and Michael had shared earlier came flooding back to him, heat rising to his chest and sending pleasant tingles through his stomach.

It hadn't been an impulsive decision.

The _timing_ had been impulsive – he'd been tired, and worried about Gavin, and suddenly, strangely paranoid that something would happen to Michael as well. But for a few days beforehand he had taken Jack's words into account – had reevaluated his relationship with Michael, had considered what it might mean to take it further. And the more he thought about it – the more he tentatively reached out, testing the waters – it became increasingly apparent that Michael was the most important thing in his life; the only person he was close to. If something happened to him – if he died, or left, or what else – Ray realised he would quite literally have nothing to go on for. They were a team, the two of them, and he had very little inclination to continue in the business on his own.

So he had taken a chance on it – and, it seemed, it had been the right one – suddenly the future stretching out ahead of them was new and exciting; not just an endless string of jobs and the occasional frolic with a girl or boy who meant nothing. But change – _good_ change – making something new with the person he cared most in the world about.

He was looking forward to it.

But it still felt too awkward, too new to end a text message with anything extra (and he couldn't help but chuckle at the thought of what Michael would think if he suddenly started signing everything off with 'xx' or '<3' – unless it was in an ironic way, because they were assholes who delighted in taking the piss out of anything nice and cute and joyful).

So he sent it off as it was, and a few moments later Michael replied with a simple ' _:)_ ' that he couldn't help but grin at.

' _:)_ ,' he sent back.

 

* * *

 

It was an hour and a half later by the time the others returned. Ray was sitting on the couch, Gavin curled up next to him with his head on Ray's shoulder and the other's arm tight around him, the blankets pulled over them both. He had his eyes shut but Ray was pretty sure he wasn't sleeping. Still, if silence and touch was what was most helpful for him right now, that's what he would give him – and they sat in a companionable quiet, as he gently rubbed Gavin's arm, cocooned in the warm nest of blankets.

Ryan sat at the table nearby, cleaning his gun and watching them. He didn't speak, just glanced across at them now and then, but there was no tension in the room. He only rose every twenty minutes or so to go and check on Jack.

When Geoff and Michael finally entered, moving wearily through the door trailing smoke and gunpowder, the first thing Ryan did was rise and ask, “Were you followed?”

Geoff shook his head. “No – but they had a damn good try and we reckon they're looking for us now.”

Gavin had sat up at their entrance and Michael made a beeline for the couch. For a moment he hesitated, seeing the two of them huddled so close together – but then he plonked himself down on Gavin's either side, drawing a yelp as he accidentally pulled all the blankets off them.

“You fucking idiot,” Michael said, though there was no malice in his tone. “I am _this close_ to smacking you. What the _fuck_ were you thinking running off on us like that?! I fucking help you narrowly escape the jaws of Edgar only for you to go fucking running back into them?! I'm actually _confused_ about how someone could be _that fucking dumb_!” He was nearly screaming by this point, but then, as quickly as flicking a switch, the anger melted from his features, replaced by a relieved grin.

“Anyway,” he said, and reached out to ruffle Gavin's hair. “You okay, boi?”

Gavin nodded with a half-smile, seeming relieved that Michael's anger stemmed from worry more than any sort of genuine offence.

“Do cows even have jaws?” he asked then, and Michael nearly choked on his own spit.

“Dude. What the fuck. How the fuck do you think they _eat_? _Fucking everything has jaws_!”

“But not like, jaws like a shark!” Gavin cried, weakly, and Michael shook his head.

“Jesus fucking Christ, I can't believe you. What the fuck do you think jaws are? You don't need sharp teeth or a gaping maw to have them. _Humans_ have jaws. It is clear this ordeal has not knocked any sort of sense into you. Fucking hell.” He sank back into the couch with a huff, but his lips were twitching in amusement and after a moment Gavin gave one of his squeaking giggles.

Geoff had wandered over too by this point.

“You're an idiot,” he informed Gavin, but reached out and squeezed his shoulder. “And I'm sure the others have drilled this into your head already, but we're not about to abandon you, so please do us the great favour of not forcing us to go running off on a rescue mission again. Now, where's Jack?” he asked, turning to Ryan, who pointed towards the stairs.

Both older men wandered out of the room, leaving the lads on the couch. Ray glanced over at Michael, who smiled at him, small and soft as though over some shared secret. Gavin was still sitting between them on the couch, but Michael reached back over his head and squeezed Ray's shoulder.

“...don't think it's too serious,” Ryan's voice drifted back down the stairs as he and Geoff returned. They paused in the hallway and Ray twisted around on the couch to look at them.

“He's still coughing like fuck and his fever's only getting worse.” There was barely suppressed panic in Geoff's tone. “What if he takes a sudden downhill turn? You hear all those stories about people who seem fine and then keel over a couple hours later because of like, pneumonia or water in the lungs or some shit.”

“Where are you reading those? The Daily Mail?” Ryan scoffed. “We can't risk going to a hospital.”

Geoff looked looked annoyed – almost angry – but Ryan stood his ground. Ray could tell things were about to get heated, when Gavin piped up from next to him.

“Uhh, we can't stay here,” he said. “Edgar has Shadles working for him – it won't be long before he tracks us down. That's how they knew we were at the mansion, how he knew you were following Beardo – he's got someone similar to me doing what I do for him. And given how many of his people we've taken down by now, he'll be cracking down on us bloody hard.”

“Where can we go?” Geoff demanded. He turned back to Ryan. “One of my other safe houses?”

“He'll have eyes on them by now,” Ryan replied. “We can't go to any of them.”

“Well, what do you fucking suggest then?” Geoff asked, testily. “I don't see you coming up with any fucking better ideas.”

Ryan stared at him in a stony silence, and Ray and Michael exchanged glances.

“I do have one idea,” Ryan said finally – almost hesitantly.

“Pray share,” Geoff replied, folding his arms.

Ryan looked down at him for a long moment. Then he turned towards the couch, looking at the lads – his eyes meeting Ray's for a minute.

“He'll have scoped out all of your hideouts by now,” he sighed at last, “But I've been hiding from him for a couple of years. He doesn't know about my places. We can hole up in my apartment in Achievement City for a bit.”

Ray's mouth nearly dropped open in shock. “You're serious?” he asked.

“I wouldn't offer if I wasn't,” Ryan said, very stiffly.

It was one thing for Ryan to show a couple of them his face, another entirely to reveal where he _lived_. And Ray fancied that he wasn't at all happy about it; after all, the mad mercenary had gotten into this assuming they'd just work together to take Edgar down and then part ways. But here he was, spilling his hard-kept secrets left and right.

Even Geoff looked taken aback.

“I... okay,” he said finally. “That sounds good. I'll get Jack up, we'll pack up everything from the house and you can lead us there in the cars.”

Ryan gave a curt nod before striding up off to his room.

Geoff moved over to them and turned to address Gavin. “You can get your stuff from the basement alright?”

Gavin nodded, rising and moving downstairs, and they parted ways, Michael and Ray heading off for their rooms together.

“Off to Ryan's place then.” Michael sounded as though he could hardly believe it. “I am _curious as fuck_ as to what that's gonna be like. I can't believe he actually offered.”

“Hey,” Ray said, a thought occurring to him, “Didn't you say when you saw his face that you thought he was handsome?”

Michael gave a wide, amused grin. “Hell yeah I did. An eight at least, maybe a nine.”

“Really? Hm. What do you rate me then?”

Michael tilted his head, jokingly sizing him up. “Hmmm. Solid four, but I love you anyway.”

The words slipped out and he froze awkwardly as he realised what he'd just said, Ray stopping in his tracks as well. It wasn't like they hadn't said them before – jokingly, or occasionally even seriously, but never in a romantic way – but suddenly they seemed charged with something else. Something neither of them was quite ready for yet.

_Fuck_ , Ray thought, already beginning to feel the awkwardness rise up – and he reached out and landed a joking punch to Michael's shoulder.

“Fine. I'd give you, like, a six, so we average out.”

Michael laughed, a touch nervously. “Right. Uh.”

They'd be talking about this later, Ray knew – but for now they headed off to their own rooms, and the nervous buzzing in his stomach wasn't quite unpleasant.

 

* * *

 

Jack felt like shit.

He slept most of the car ride away – spent most of the waking moments in a daze, too, not quite sure where they were going or why they were suddenly on the move – and when he did snap back to alertness, it was either to have a coughing fit or because a paranoid Geoff kept interrogating him about inane things like what the date was, or who they were with, or how to spell Kdin's name, just to make sure the condition of his brain wasn't deteriorating.

When he finally managed to drag himself back to full consciousness, his head still feeling somewhat foggy and that dull ache still ever-present in his chest, he realised they were back in the city, pulling up on a quiet, dark suburban street.

“Where are we?” he asked, groggily, and Geoff turned to him.

“Hey! You're awake. What's the date?”

“The same as it was the last time you asked me,” Jack grunted. “I'm fine.”

Geoff reached out and felt his forehead with a frown. “You've still got that fever. Are you cold?”

“A bit.” If anything he felt flu-y, bones aching, congested and plagued by the chills. “You didn't answer me?”

“Oh. We're at Ryan's place,” Geoff said, moving to unbuckle his seatbelt.

“ _Ryan_ 's place?”

“Yeah, the house wasn't safe any more. Come on,” Geoff added – and, rather confused, Jack climbed out and followed him.

The others were getting out of their own cars, similarly parked. Jack still felt out-of-sorts, struggling to remember when Geoff and Michael had gotten back – had he been sleeping? – but somehow they had all ended up here. Out of some instinct his gaze went straight to Gavin, perhaps because concern for him was still stuck at the forefront of his mind. He was hanging back next to Ray, hands shoved deep in his pockets, looking exhausted but otherwise fine. Jack let out a little huff of relief.

Ryan looked up and down the street before giving a nod, seeming satisfied they were not followed. He turned and headed up the street towards an apartment block, the rest of them trailing behind him. Geoff kept one arm across Jack's back, seeming fearful he'd collapse any instant, but after having rested a little in the car he felt marginally better. Certainly alert enough to notice just how tense Ryan was, and he got the impression it wasn't just from the potential threat of Edgar.

_He's letting us into his home. Practically the most private person on practically the whole planet_! It had been curious, getting to know Ryan after hearing nothing but rumours about him for so long. Putting a personality to the man, realising his often dry sense of humour. There had been something pleasant about finding out that he was just as human as the rest of them.

And despite every protest – Jack could tell he was starting to care about them. It was the only reason he trusted the man. He could deny it all he wanted, but it was obvious he had a soft spot a mile wide for Gavin, Ray too – that even if he furiously refused to acknowledge that they were a team, somewhere along the line they'd become one.

A long driveway led into an apartment complex; a series of modern looking, multi-storey white buildings with fancy glass balconies and narrow, dark-tinted windows. There was something very clinical about it, and it was not at all the sort of place that Jack had expected the mad mercenary to live.

Then again, he supposed that was sort of the point.

Ryan produced a key from his pocket, letting them into one of the buildings where he led them up a flight of stairs to his apartment door. Having entered, he switched on the lights and they all stood rather awkwardly in the living room, all five of them staring around with unabashed curiosity.

The apartment was clinically impersonal in a way that Jack had honestly expected; when your job required moving around so often – not to mention the possible need to pack up and leave any second – no single hide out ever really felt like home.

But despite that, there were still touches about the place, indicators of Ryan's having spent a significant portion of time there. The couch looked comfortable; slightly more crushed on one side than the other. The spines of the books on the small shelf under the window were creased and worn. The coffee table was ringed with watermarks in certain places.

Jack tried to imagine Ryan coming back here after a successful hit; curling up in that spot on the couch with a book – taking off his mask.

Ryan cleared his throat, still seeming somewhat uneasy.

“It's not huge,” he said. “There's only the one bed – Jack, you take that. Otherwise there's the couch, and I think I have a spare mattress and an airbed somewhere. We'll take turns on watches anyway.”

Jack nodded. Geoff nudged him towards the bedroom.

“Dude, you should go to bed now. It's way too late and you're sick. We won't be getting much done tonight – I think we all need to rest up.”

 

* * *

 

 

There was something kind of strange about literally sleeping in Ryan's bed. It felt odd somehow, intrusive – especially when he was alone in the room and left to shamelessly look around. He didn't go quite so far as to poke around in Ryan's drawers, and there was little laid about in the room anyway. A copy of _The Spy Who Came In From The Cold_ on the dresser, and that was about it.

He was tired enough that he had half settled down to sleep – pausing now and then to lean over and hack, trying to clear the pressure in his chest – when the door opened and Geoff slipped in.

“Shit, did I wake you?” he whispered, and Jack shook his head, sitting up again.

“Nah, 'm good. Everything okay?”

“Yeah, just came to check on you.” He settled on the side of the bed and Jack shifted over to make room for him. For a moment they just sat, relaxing in each other's company, unwinding after the stress of the day. After a few minutes Geoff's hand reached over and found Jack's, their fingers tangling together comfortably.

“Gavin okay?” Jack asked after a second, and Geoff sighed heavily.

“Wish I knew. Kid seems fine but... I don't know. Seems like he has a lot more bottled up than I ever expected.”

Jack bit his lip. “You can say that again.”

“What?” Geoff caught onto his tone, turning to him with a raised eyebrow. “He tell you something out there?”

Jack debated whether or not he should keep his confidence – but Gavin hadn't told him _not_ to tell Geoff, and in all honesty, it was probably better for him to know the full picture. Information was power, especially when up against someone like Edgar – and as they'd seen, even the most seemingly innocuous details of someone's past could be used against them.

So he told him – about the scars, everything Gavin had mentioned to him. Watched Geoff's face slacken in surprise – then harden in anger, to the point where his fists clenched and his moustache was close to bristling.

“He say what happened to his old team?” Geoff uttered finally. “The ones who ditched him?”

Jack shook his head. “Not sure.”

“I find out who they are, I'll slit every one of their God damn throats.” Geoff shook his head, something almost horrified in his eyes. “God that's awful. I mean, shit happens – we've seen it – but to _Gavin_. Fuck.”

Jack nodded, sighing as he ran a hand restlessly through his beard.

Geoff glanced at him, and his anger melted away into something like a smile. “You warmed up to him too then, huh?”

“Hard not to, stuck out there with him like that,” Jack replied. “Anyway. I don't imagine any of us will be sleeping well the next few nights, but... keep an eye on him.”

“Will do.” Geoff leaned over and planted a kiss on his lips. Then, because he was an asshole, a terrible slobbery one on his cheek until Jack leaned over and shoved him away with a laugh.

“Fuck off,” Jack chuckled. “Go have a nose around, I know you're dying to.”

“Truth,” Geoff said, and rose. “Goodnight then. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

 

* * *

 

 

He drifted off after that, a restless doze broken by the occasional rasping cough. Ryan had helpfully brought him a bucket some time earlier, and he found himself spitting out mucus more often than not, though the pressure in his chest never quite seemed to get clearer.

He woke briefly when the door opened again. It was Michael and Ray who peeked into the room – he was tired and dazed enough that he didn't quite register what they were doing there – checking up on him, he assumed, and Ray had brought him a glass of water – but the next time he properly awoke it was dark, most of the lights in the flat out, except for the lamp over by the wardrobe. He sat up groggily at the sound of rustling to find Ryan rummaging through the chest of drawers.

“Ryan?”

Ryan turned around. “Hey. Sorry if I woke you up, I just needed to grab something.”

“It's fine.” He turned and hacked up another glob of phlegm, spitting it into the bucket. He still felt faintly feverish and achey, and didn't think he could get out of bed if he tried at this point. After a moment Ryan came over and checked his temperature again.

“Hmm. Still a bit high,” he said. “But it's not getting worse, so. There's that.”

There was a slightly awkward pause.

Jack wasn't sure why he brought it up. Maybe because being here in Ryan's house made him seem unexpectedly more human – maybe because the fever had brought down his filters. Either way, he found himself blurting out, “You do care, you know.”

Ryan went very stiff.

“What?” he said.

“You care about us,” Jack replied. “You don't need to hide it. I don't know what you're afraid of, but... it's okay. We should be able to be friends given just how much we've all been through together.”

Ryan rose. Jack stared up at him, wondering what was running through his mind – it was impossible to tell with the mask.

“You have a fever,” Ryan said, slowly. “You won't remember saying that tomorrow.”

“I mean it, though,” Jack said. “You didn't tell me I'm wrong.”

“Go to sleep, Jack.” There was something almost strained in Ryan's tone, and he left the room in an awkward rush.

The tiredness flooded back in as soon as he was gone, Jack slipping in and out of a doze until he could barely remember whether Ryan had ever been in the room at all, if it had all been a dream – but he was too exhausted to dwell on it, and he finally slipped back into sleep.

 

* * *

 

“You're fucking doing it wrong,” Michael said, snatching the pump from Ray.

Ray huffed, letting him take it as he flopped back to sit cross-legged on the carpet, watching Michael struggle with and swear at the air bed.

“Come on, you fucking – don't you fucking dare come out again – Jesus Christ, who invented this thing?” Finally managed to get everything in working order, he sat back as the machine turned on and the mattress slowly began to inflate.

“How mad would you be if as soon as you sat on it all the air just came out,” Ray mused, and Michael scowled.

“Don't even joke about that, you'll fucking jinx it.”

There came the sound of a door shutting from the other half of the living room, which stretched around a partition wall.

“All's clear out there,” Ryan's voice floated over to them. “I'll keep watch out on the balcony first. Where's Gavin got to?”

“He's in the bathroom,” Geoff replied.

There was a silence so awkward that Ray could feel it from here. He glanced at Michael, who put a finger to his lips and beckoned for Ray to come and peek around the edge of the wall.

Geoff and Ryan were standing facing each other, looking incredibly awkward. Ray wondered exactly what they thought of each other. He hadn't gotten a sense of them getting on very well, but they hadn't been actively hostile, either. Geoff had been the one to trust Ryan first, to agree to work with him – but now, it seemed, of all of them (save Gavin, who was understandably wary) he had become the one who liked him the least.

Geoff was frowning at Ryan as though trying to figure him out and coming up short from all angles. And Ryan stood, implacable as always, arms folded.

“Good of you to let us stay here,” Geoff said, at last.

“We're all in this together,” Ryan replied easily.

“Yeah,” Geoff said. “We are. Good of you to let Edgar go today as well, so we could focus on finding Gavin. Kind of makes me wonder what changed since the Corpirate's mansion to make you do that.”

Ray bit his lip. He could practically _feel_ the tension in the room rise twenty notches.

Finally, Ryan said, “Indeed.” And turned and walked back out onto the balcony.

“ _Indeed_ ,” Michael intoned deeply, in a surprisingly good imitation – and Ray let out a breathy, almost hysterical giggle.

“Fuck, are they gonna start fighting? They'd better not start fighting.”

“Who the fuck knows.” Michael moved back over to the air bed, reaching out to poke it. “I don't think Geoff is mad at him. I think he's just... confused. God knows I am too, Ryan really knows how to play it hot and cold. I have no idea what he thinks of us.”

“He likes you, I think,” Ray mused. “Back when you were mad at him for what happened at the Corpirate's? He was hanging out to apologise to you. I think he felt bad about it.”

“You're absolutely his favourite,” Michael muttered. Finally detaching the pump, he flopped onto the mattress, which wobbled alarmingly. “You ever banged someone on an air mattress?”

“No.”

“Of course you haven't. Virgin.”

Ray flipped him off. “Like you have. It's fucking unstable. Why? You offering?”

Michael's eyes widened a bit.

The implications of Ray's words hit him all of a sudden, making him blush and look away. And God, they were acting like school kids, but this – this wasn't something casual, this wasn't just anything. This was Michael – his best friend – and Ray was just starting to wrap his head around how they could progress from that to something more. Kissing was one thing. Sex was, well. Kind of on another level that he wasn't quite ready to get to yet.

“Yes,” Geoff said from behind them, making them both jump.

“Do it,” he continued, with a wicked laugh, “Fuck on Ryan's air mattress. I dare you. Bonus points if you burst it and have to explain to him how.”

“This whole space is basically one big room,” Michael pointed out. “If we did, you'd have to watch.”

“Fucking free porno, man, I'm up for it,” Geoff replied easily. Then laughed. “Seriously, though, you guys are... together now? Right?”

Ray and Michael glanced at each other.

“I guess you could say that,” Ray said, carefully – and Michael smiled at him. Saying it out loud – defining it – it brought a comforting sense of permanence.

Geoff shot them a double thumbs up. “Fantastic,” he said then. “Was rooting for you all along. Well, have fun, kiddos. I'll be on the couch. Use protection. Michael, remember you're on second watch.”

He wandered off, and after a minute Ray moved to sit next to Michael on the air bed.

“Get off, man, you're gonna burst it,” Michael laughed, shoving at him.

Ray grabbed his wrists. “Nah, I'm not, I'm skinny.” He bounced up and down a few times, purely for the novelty of it, as he had not encountered an air mattress before. Michael watched him in amusement, a fond smile on his face, and Ray grinned back before getting up.

“Okay. Playtime over. You actually should sleep now if you're taking second watch.”

“Wait,” Michael said, grabbing his wrist suddenly and tugging him back down. “Not even a goodnight kiss?”

His tone was teasing, but there was an undercurrent of nervousness – this was still so _new_ – and Ray let himself be pulled back down, settling in front of the mattress between Michael's legs as he was pulled forward into a kiss.

It was different to their first one – softer, sweeter, taking their time to work out how they fit together.

A loud, startled squawk had them jerking apart from each other, Ray falling back on his ass very ungracefully.

Gavin had just emerged from the bathroom and was standing, staring at them.

Michael wiped his mouth and grinned. “Sup Gav.”

“I... you guys... okay. This is a bloody new development,” Gavin spluttered.

Ray reached up and rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah. Things... happened?” And fuck, it seemed kind of insensitive in hindsight, that they'd gone off and gotten together while he was missing. He knew it wasn't like that at all – he knew Gavin knew – but somehow he still felt a bit bad about it.

“Okay,” Gavin said. “Congratulations? I'll, uh...” He made a weak, aborted gesture in the direction of the other room before scurrying away.

They stared after him in silence.

“Okay,” Michael said after a minute. “That was... interesting. He didn't want something, did he? Should we go after him and check?”

Ray shook his head. “Nah, I don't think so. Probably just startled.”

“Hm.”

“Hmm.”

“Goodnight then,” Michael said with a grin. And then blew him a shower of slobbery kisses that Ray pretended to deflect with an imaginary lightsaber.

And when he switched off the light – when he finally settled down into his own bedding – it was with an odd giddiness in his stomach, a lightheaded joy that he hadn't felt in a long time, if ever – and he knew then that whatever happened, however slow or fast they took things – they'd made the right call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now that they've left the house, I sort of consider this to end 'arc 1' of the story, which sets up the groundwork. Thus starts 'arc 2' which (hopefully) progresses them along into the actual ot6 relationship.
> 
> The next chapter is a bit lighter on the action and it's mostly them sort of reconvening and resolving a couple of issues, so I'm gonna post that one sooner than usual since I don't want people to be waiting a week for a chapter that's not as exciting aha. Thanks all for sticking with it so far!
> 
> Also, rt-cuties on tumblr put together an [amazing fanmix](http://8tracks.com/piratespiral/the-great-sealand-takeover) for this story. Thanks so much! :)


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slow, safe, team-bonding chapter this time around. :)

Ryan was totally not having a silent, barely-restrained freak-out on the balcony in the middle of the night.

It was almost dawn, the air fresh with the smell of recent rain and the faint sound of birds already starting up in the darkness. In a few minutes he'd have to go back in to wake Michael up for his turn on the watch.

And inside – inside it felt claustrophobic, too many people crammed into too small a space. For someone so private and solitary, it was jarring to turn the corner in his own house and see the others there, in a space normally empty save for himself.

Jarring, but not... not _unpleasant_ , and fuck if that didn't make him wonder if he was losing his mind.

 _You care about us,_ Jack's voice rang in his head. _You don't need to hide it_.

There was little point in even trying to deny it anymore when he knew he'd just be lying to himself. Somewhere along the fucking line, despite his best efforts, he'd managed to grow _fond_ of them all. And it was already playing at his nerves – the sick panic he'd felt when he realised Gavin had gone, intensifying every moment he knew the other was in Edgar's clutches. The entire time it had been like a crushing vice around his ribs, the most horrible thoughts plaguing him of what Edgar might be doing to the other man – it was only a lifetime of experience, the convenience of the mask and with a great deal of effort that he'd managed to avoid letting the others know just how worried he was. And when they'd found him, alive and safe – the relief had nearly bowled him over and it had taken concerted effort not to grab Gavin then and there and just _hold him_. Know that he was still alive, safe, relatively unharmed.

The sheer force of those emotions had made him uneasy. And it hadn't been until he took Gavin into the bedroom to check on his ribs – until the awkward silence as they avoided talking, the way Gavin's breath hitched when his fingers ran gently over the scars, checking for any deeper injuries – until Ryan realised his _own_ hands were nearly shaking – that it truly hit him.

He'd gone and done it. He'd gone and gotten _attached_ and now – now he had something to lose. Something Edgar could hit at, could _hurt_ him with – _five_ somethings, because it wasn't just Gavin. It was Jack, and how Ryan wanted nothing more than to get him to a hospital despite knowing there was realistically no way to. It was Ray and how Ryan had never trusted anyone to have his back more. It was Michael making such a simple, easy effort to _understand_ why Ryan had acted the way he did. And Geoff, too – how it almost hurt that the other man didn't trust him now, how Ryan knew exactly why he didn't and still felt bad for it.

It scared him.

It was as simple as that. It terrified him that he had a weak spot again, that now he could get _hurt_ – and he hated it, hated that he'd somehow fallen back into the trap of _caring_ , that every wall he'd so carefully built up was starting to crumble back down and there was nothing he could do to stop it-

 _Breathe_.

He forced himself to calm down, fingers clenching almost painfully tight around the balcony rail.

He had no idea what he was going to do now, no idea where to even _begin_ sorting out this mess. But it was late, and he was exhausted, and things always seemed better after sleeping – so he headed back into the apartment.

Michael woke easily; working in jobs like theirs you had to be able to snap awake at a moment's notice, and as Ryan settled down on the air mattress he was again struck by how strange it was, not being alone in his own abode. Normally it was dead silent, being located in a very quiet area of the suburbs, but now every noise the others made seemed deafening.

Jack's restless tossing from the bedroom nearby, laboured, almost wheezing breaths that probably didn't bode well for the state of his chest. Geoff snortling and snuffling from the couch. Ray grinding his teeth next to him.

_Where's Gavin?_

The thought struck him suddenly, sending an unpleasant bolt of panic through his chest, and he sat up, looking around the room. He quickly noticed that the bathroom door was open a crack and the light was on, spilling out in a thin sliver across the carpet. Rising, he walked over and peered in, careful to keep his steps and breathing quiet.

He needn't have bothered. Gavin was curled on the floor, between the toilet and the sink, completely lost in his own world. His head was down and he was breathing too fast. Ryan knew a panic attack when he saw one. He had had more than enough himself. But for a moment he froze, completely unsure what to do.

His first urge was to get in there, to try and comfort him, but he was struck by a sudden awkwardness and the memory of how Gavin had pushed him away before – _if you think I'm going to forgive you, you're damn wrong_ – and he hesitated. Then decided he should probably bring him some water, and headed off to the kitchen.

By the time he returned with a glass, it was to find the bathroom door wide open. He approached with a frown and paused again in the doorway.

Geoff, it seemed, had woken up and gone to find Gavin himself. He was now sitting on the floor beside the younger man, one arm wrapped around his shoulders, head down and murmuring something Ryan couldn't quite make out. Hearing Ryan's footsteps, he looked up – something almost challenging in his eyes.

Something inside Ryan sank a little. He knew he ought to be relieved that Geoff had effectively saved him from having to do anything, but at the same time he was almost disappointed and didn't quite know why. But there was little he could do now except hand Geoff the glass – getting a nod of thanks in return – before turning and heading out, shutting the door quietly behind him, and lying back down to try and get some sleep.

 

* * *

 

 

He woke up with a start, heart pounding, feeling like he'd just had some sort of horrible dream – but it was fading quickly and he couldn't remember what it had been about, which was probably for the best.

Rolling over, for a moment he didn't realise where he was. Then he recognised his carpet, and oh hey, he was in the living room, and that was Ray next to him – Ray who had rolled halfway off his own mattress and now had his face only inches from Ryan's own, breathing heavily in sleep.

Ryan sat up groggily, reaching up under his mask to rub his eyes. It was early – he'd trained his body to wake at dawn – and he felt exhausted still, a headache building behind dry eyes.

And things were not better.

As soon as he was awake enough to remember why, exactly, Ray was in his apartment, it all came slamming back into him and suddenly – suddenly he just needed to get out of there.

Rising quietly, he made his way to the bathroom to wash up before heading for his bedroom to grab a coat.

“Ryan?”

He turned to see Gavin sitting up from the couch. Geoff was still curled up next to him, snoring gently, and Ryan frowned a little – it seemed they'd been sleeping there cuddled up together, though Gavin still looked like he'd spent half the night awake, the circles under his eyes just as dark as the bruises dotting his face and neck.

“Are you going somewhere?” Gavin asked, then, and Ryan nodded.

“There's no food here,” he replied. “I need to get some groceries.”

Gavin paused.

“I'll come with you,” he said after a second, and Ryan froze, surprised – he hadn't thought Gavin would want to leave the safety of the apartment so soon, let alone with just _him_ for protection. He'd been certain the other didn't trust him anymore.

“...alright,” he replied then. “I'll be ready in ten. Let Michael know we're going out.”

Gavin nodded, and Ryan went off to his bedroom, opening the door quietly and peering in before entering. Jack was still asleep, and he moved over to the other man, reaching out to feel his forehead with a frown. His fever was still there, though it hadn't worsened. He looked oddly vulnerable lying there asleep – an odd way to describe one of the most dangerous, high powered men in the city, but true nonetheless, and again Ryan felt that terrible pang of concern for him.

Shoving it away, he moved to the closet and quickly got changed, pulling on a coat and then grabbing a cap, sunglasses and scarf before heading out. Gavin was waiting by the door, hands shoved deep in his pockets. Ryan glanced pointedly at Michael and Gavin nodded, indicating he'd alerted him as to where they were going.

They left the flat, walking down to the drive, where Ryan paused and, after a second, pulled his mask off. He could see Gavin staring at him as he pulled the cap down low over his eyes, jammed the sunglasses on his face and tugged the scarf up to cover his mouth.

“Put your hood up,” he ordered, and Gavin did so.

“Do you normally take the mask off when you go out on non-mission stuff?” he asked, quietly, and Ryan nodded.

“There are some public places you just can't avoid. I can't get groceries delivered because I'm not here all the time. I've learned how to keep on the down-low by now.”

Gavin nodded, thoughtfully, and said little else, trailing by Ryan's side as they walked to the shopping district a couple of blocks away.

It felt good to be out of the house. To be away from the others after having been forced into their company for so long.

It was early enough that the store would be closed for the next half hour, but there was a little cafe nearby, and Ryan paused.

“I definitely owe you a drink by this point,” he said, turning to Gavin, whose eyes flickered up to his curiously. “But you don't like coffee, right?”

Gavin looked startled, then a small smile played at his lips. “You remembered,” he said, and shrugged. “Nah, I can handle a coffee. I just don't drink it too often.”

Ryan nodded. He went inside and bought two, and they ended up sitting at an outdoor picnic table. Though it had long stopped raining, there was still a crisp chill in the air, and Ryan felt odd – he had done this many times before, sat out in the cold on his own with his thoughts, but somehow it was different with Gavin sitting across from him. There was something almost domestic about it, about having someone else's company in his life. And as he'd noted before: it wasn't unpleasant.

“I know why you did it,” Gavin said abruptly.

Ryan closed his eyes briefly. He'd known as soon as Gavin asked to go with him that they'd end up talking about what had happened. He supposed he was just glad the other had been the one to bring it up.

“I was... God, I was _so angry_ with you,” Gavin continued. “You get why, right? Because...” he gestured vaguely down at himself, and Ryan nodded silently. He might not know all the details, but he got the gist of it. Got why his betrayal had hit so hard.

“But when Edgar had me...” Gavin paused, swallowed. “He... he did some stuff. I saw him do some stuff. And... he's pretty bad.”

Ryan scoffed quietly. “That's... that's one way of putting it. He's pretty bad.”

“So if you say he did something to you,” Gavin continued, “To people you – care about.” The words lodged in the air between them, hard and heavy like the lump building in Ryan's throat – “I can get why you might be so angry that you'd just have to go after him. If he... if he did what he'd done to, to Dan or someone else I care about... well, I don't think I'd have the skills to kill him like you probably can, but I'd certainly try. So I was an ass before, not listening to what you had to say.”

“It's not your fault.”

“No, I was a dick, I shut you down and... and I know it can't have been easy, trying to tell me that. So I'm sorry.”

“It's fine.” Something spread through Ryan's stomach, something warm and almost nervous. Because Gavin was looking at him now, and without the mask he suddenly felt open, exposed, too vulnerable, and the urge rose up to turn away and shut down the conversation, but he couldn't quite bring himself to do it.

“I'm sorry too,” he said, “In case you didn't get the point the first time. I shouldn’t have left you and... it won't happen again.”

The words slipped out before he could really think about them, and it wasn't until they were out of his mouth that their full impact hit him; he'd made the choice, sure, to go after Gavin instead of pursuing Edgar, but that was once, in the heat of the moment, with Ray beside him and the others in his ear and everything on the line. He didn't make a habit of breaking promises, but this one – this one had come too easily. Laying his revenge second to Gavin had come too easily.

_Oh God, oh fucking hell, what's happening to me._

Gavin grinned at that. “So we're cool then,” he said, and then when Ryan nodded, “Yay. Lovely Ryan.”

“Shut up,” Ryan said, ducking his head away, and Gavin laughed – which made Ryan smile, internally at least.

For a moment they just sat, warming their hands around the styrofoam cups, and it vaguely occurred to Ryan that it probably looked like they were on a date, two guys sitting at a cafe table having a deep conversation and staring at each other – but he couldn't quite bring himself to care.

At least until Gavin spoke again, that hesitance back in his tone.

“Uh... that other stuff you said, though, that night.”

Ryan bit his lip. _You can't have friends in this business._ It wasn't exactly hard to remember, considering how often he'd thrown it at the other guys. How often he repeated it to _himself_ , a mantra whenever he felt himself slipping up – _I don't care about you, I can't care about you, I don't care about you – I_ can't _care._

“That kind of...” Gavin shook his head. “That's what scared me? That's what – and I'm not trying to guilt trip you here, but – that sort of pushed me to take Shadles' deal.”

A cold horror hit Ryan like a lead brick, and Gavin must have seen, because he quickly added, “I don't... I don't _blame_ you, that's not what I'm getting at here. I'm just trying to explain that you're _wrong_ , because... the whole time Edgar had me I had given myself up for dead, I didn't think you guys were coming. And the first time, the time with Barry – Dan came for me then, and you guys came for me now. Because you're my friends. _Because_ you cared enough. So you... you can't operate like that, never getting close to anyone. Well maybe _you_ can, since you seem to be some sort of superhuman, but. The rest of us, we can't, we need to be able to rely on people, we need to know that if something happens there's someone out there who won't abandon us.”

Ryan kept his mouth shut. The words struck something in him – he couldn’t disagree, not really, not when he knew deep down that if he'd been the one to disappear, Ray and Jack at least would have insisted on going out after him. But he couldn’t bring himself to acknowledge the truth of it either, because the part that scared him - the part that stuck in his throat – _what if you care about people and you_ can’t _save them? What if they need you, they’re relying on you, and you fail them - what if you’re too fucking_ late _?_

It had happened before, and the thought that it might happen again was _killing_ him – but Gavin was staring at him almost hopefully, and right now things were fine. Right now what Gavin needed to hear was Ryan's agreement.

So he nodded, slowly, and when Gavin smiled he smiled back, even pushing the scarf down away from his face so the other could tell it was genuine.

 

* * *

 

 

“How long can we hole up here?” Geoff asked.

They were sitting around the kitchen table, in varying states. Jack had a blanket wrapped around his shoulders and was still coughing sporadically, but his fever had gone down a little since that morning and Ryan hoped he was on the road to recovery, even if slowly. Geoff himself was agitated; twitchy and worried.

Michael and Ray were far more relaxed than the two older men. Ryan hadn’t missed the shift in their relationship and despite himself he couldn't help being pleased for them. At least they weren't fighting any more, and if touching tips was going to make everything more peaceful then he was all for it.

And Gavin – Gavin had set up his computers again, as well as he could in the small space, and had been working diligently for the last couple of hours, though he'd still made little progress.

Ryan shrugged, reaching up to adjust his mask, which he'd put back on as soon as they returned to the apartment.

“Not too long,” he said. “I picked this place for its discretion and it's not easy to hunt me down – but the six of us are a bigger group. We'll draw more attention. We should move on as soon as we can, and preferably before Edgar forces us to.”

Gavin nodded. “Yeah... this is a good spot but even someone of Shadles' skill could crack it in a week with all six of us here.”

“You have an ETA on when we'll know where the duck is?” Geoff asked.

Gavin shook his head. “Edgar's been a lot more careful lately. Half of his inner circle are gone – more than half – so he might be crippled, but he's also more cautious.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “To be totally honest, I don't know if I'll be able to find them.”

“At all?” Michael demanded, sitting up straighter.

Gavin bit his lip. “Well, before they find us, at least. I mean, unless we provoke them into doing something that I can then work from, I'll have to start delving back into past records and footage and stuff and it'll just take a really bloody long time.”

“So you're saying,” Ryan said, “That you need to work forwards, not backwards. You don't need to work out who the duck is and track her from there, you get eyes on the duck at this moment and then follow her back to wherever she's going. Same with the pig.”

“Basically,” Gavin said, with a sheepish sort of grin.

Geoff stroked his moustache. “Draw them out... draw them out...”

“It won't be as simple as just sitting one of us out in the open as bait,” Ryan mused. After a moment's thought, he said, “Edgar wants to mess with you as much as possible. Before, when you were pulling heists, he kept gatecrashing. If you planned one now, I guarantee you he'd show up and try to interfere.”

“There's an idea,” said Geoff.

Michael frowned a bit. “That's... gonna take a bit of planning.”

It was true; just showing up without adequate preparation was a recipe for disaster. Ryan'd pulled heists before, hired for extra muscle or sometimes with his old team, and often weeks if not months of planning went into them.

“We don't need to actually pull it off,” Geoff said. “Just cause enough of a stir that Edgar shows up.”

“We'll need weapons,” Jack spoke up.

Ryan nodded. “Those ones we ordered in before – we never ended up collecting them because we ran off after Gavin. We should go get those now. Then we can come up with the heist.”

Geoff nodded. “Gavin, you stay here and keep working in case you're able to turn something up. You too Jack, you're still sick. Michael, you stay behind in case something happens.”

Ray and Michael glanced at one another, but after a moment Michael nodded.

“Alright,” he said, and Geoff clapped his hands together.

“Great,” he said. “We have a plan then.”

They started to move off, gathering their belongings to go, but Ryan did not miss the long, careful look that Geoff shot him. The other man had been staring at him ever since he got back that morning, and Ryan could tell it went beyond simple curiosity.

Things between them had been a little strained since the Corpirate's mansion. He knew that even if all the others had forgiven him – Gavin included – Geoff was a little more cautious. He had the most to lose, after all – the most enemies and the most experience with people trying to stab him in the back. Ryan could hardly blame him.

But still. Something about it sat uncomfortably in his stomach, and he waited until everyone else had drifted out before turning to Jack, still sitting at the table.

“Everything alright?” Jack asked, noticing – and Ryan wondered, with chagrin, just when he had become so easy to read.

“Geoff doesn't trust me,” Ryan said, bluntly.

A strange expression crossed Jack's face, something tired and almost disappointed.

“No,” he replied, “He doesn't. It's funny, you know, back when this all first started – I was the one who was worried about you joining us.”

“How the tables have turned,” Ryan mumbled, and Jack's lips twitched a bit.

“It's not because of what happened with the Corpirate,” he said. “Well, it is, but not in the way you're thinking.”

“I'm not following.”

“When you're as powerful as Geoff is,” Jack explained, “You take chances on people, sure, but you've got to be paranoid. It's rare you can give someone the benefit of the doubt and have it turn out well. Sometimes it isn't even intentional – we trusted Gavin, and he nearly screwed us all over accidentally. That sort of thing gets people killed.”

Ryan pressed his lips together, still unsure where this was going.

“Geoff took a chance on you,” Jack continued. “And hell, I'm pretty sure he wasn't expecting to get so close to Gavin, to Michael and Ray too, along the course of things. I know I sure wasn't. But that's what happened. He's offered the two of them a job, he'll probably offer Gavin one too once this is done. But you... we don't know where you sit with us. You keep on throwing how much you don't give a fuck about us in his face.” There was a little chastisement in Jack's tone, and Ryan stiffened, not liking the guilt that shivered down his spine.

“You're right, in some ways,” Jack said. “Those sorts of feelings... they raise the stakes. They make things dangerous. But there's one thing that's even more dangerous, and that's when you care about someone who _doesn't_ care about you back. Because that can be exploited. That gets people hurt, _badly_. The others obviously care about you – _I_ care about you – but he doesn't know if it goes two ways. And that's what he's worried about. That you mean what you say. That you don't care. Because that fucks over all of us.”

Ryan had no idea what to say.

 _I care about you_. That stuck in his chest like a knife, almost causing him physical pain. Because it was obvious that the lads liked him well enough – he'd consider them to be on friendly terms – but genuine caring?

It had been too long since he'd let anyone in remotely close enough for them to start feeling any sort of proper affection for him.

Suddenly he felt scared again, and horribly vulnerable, and he turned away perhaps a bit too abruptly.

“I'll... think about that,” he managed, and there was something kind in Jack's smile as he stepped forward and put a hand on Ryan's shoulder. Ryan stiffened at the touch. It was very warm, but not unpleasant – almost reassuring – and he hated himself for finding it so.

“Stay safe out there,” Jack said, and Ryan nodded once before quickly turning away, his heart racing for reasons he couldn't quite explain.

 

* * *

 

 

The situation wasn't great. They were stuck in a flat, they couldn't find Edgar, and he'd be cracking down hard on them now that they'd taken out so many of his top cronies.

But all the same, Michael couldn't help feeling oddly content.

Now that he and Ray were together – and God, it still sounded awkward in his mouth, but he didn't know how else to put it – it was like some missing piece had fallen into place. Things just felt _right_ . Kissing him, or freely acknowledging (even if only mentally) just how important he was to him – thinking about a future laid out _together_.

It was hard not to be happy at that.

They'd been split up now, though, and he took advantage of the downtime to do some weapons maintenance and browse the internet, checking up on stuff he'd missed while they were so busy. But it wasn't long until he began to feel bored, and rose from the couch to potter into the bedroom and check on Jack.

Truth be told he'd been a little worried by how sick the other seemed, but he appeared to be a bit better this morning. Michael brought him a glass of juice, anyway, rapping gently on the door before entering.

“Hey,” he said. Jack looked pleased at the sight of him, and he grinned, moving up to plonk the glass on the bedside table before pulling up a chair to sit by the bed. “How're you feeling?”

“Coughing still, but a lot better. I'll be fine by tomorrow,” Jack said, giving him a nod of thanks as he reached for the juice. “But it wasn't pleasant. Next time remind me to pack snorkelling gear before I go anywhere near windows and water.”

“Would it be too mean to poke through all Ryan's shit now that he's not here,” Michael mused, looking around the bedroom, and Jack snorted so loudly he nearly choked on the juice.

“I doubt he keeps anything personal just lying around,” he replied, with an amused huff.

Michael nodded. He did wander over to the closet and looked inside, though, just in case there was something interesting.

“God, it's so weird, seeing his house,” he said. “When all this started I never imagined we'd wind up here.”

Jack nodded. “It is extraordinary how much he's opened up to us. How much we've _all_ opened up to each other,” he added, and Michael turned to him, curiously.

“Really?” he asked, and Jack nodded.

“I mean, yeah. I know ten times more about you and Ray than I did when we started. Same with Gavin. I imagine it sort of goes both ways.”

Michael nodded thoughtfully, moving back over to the chair to sit down.

“I guess you're right,” he said. “I mean, we've gotten to know each other way more, that's for sure.”

They sat in contemplative silence for a moment.

“So you and Ray,” Jack began, and Michael couldn't help but smile, wide and terribly fond, and Jack shook his head with a laugh. “Jesus Christ, okay, you're _smitten_.”

“Aw, don't say smitten, that sounds all Harlequin and shit,” Michael protested. “But yeah, we're... seeing where things take us.”

“I'm glad,” Jack said with a nod. “I mean, it was obvious it was either gonna go this way or end in tears. And it's good,” he added, “To find that you can have that with someone you know so well and trust so completely. God you two remind me of Geoff and I when we were younger.”

“Oblivious idiots?” Michael muttered, and Jack laughed again.

“We were for a time, actually,” he said. “But we worked things out. And now you have too.”

“Yep,” Michael said, “And now we're gonna split off and form our own criminal empire. Or rise up and overthrow you, depending.”

“That's the spirit.”

It was oddly pleasant, Michael realised – just sitting and talking with Jack. Until this whole thing started they'd never really had the chance to get to know each other beyond what was needed to pull missions. He thought, suddenly, of what it might be like working with him in the long term, if he and Ray accepted Geoff's offer – a possibility which was looking more and more likely by the day.

“Tell me more about him,” he said then, and Jack tilted his head.

“About Geoff?”

“Yeah,” Michael said. “I mean, it's been interesting seeing you two over the last couple weeks. If we take you up on the job, what am I really getting into?”

“There's a question,” Jack replied. “I mean, Geoff doesn't... he doesn't hide who he is, not really – not like Ryan does. Just living with him should have given you a good enough idea. But he sees the potential in people, I guess,” he mused. “That's why he offered you the job, after all. He knows how to push people to get the most out of them, he believes in what they can do and helps them achieve that. You're actually the first people we've brought into the crew who had made a name for yourselves beforehand. It's a lot harder to trust older, experienced people than it is to foster someone who's just starting out. Can't serve two masters and all that.”

“He's a good guy,” Michael murmured – and meant it, he didn't give genuine compliments often and his full respect was not easily won. But Geoff had done so, and quickly too – Jack as well. “Not many people – especially the bigger names – care about their employees as much as he does. It's admirable.”

“He really likes you and Ray.” There was something quiet in Jack's tone, thoughtful, and suddenly Michael felt almost embarrassed. It was true, they had friends in the business, had worked with others before, but Jack and Geoff were the only ones who were in any way _affectionate_ towards them – and he hadn't realised until this moment just how strange that was.

Jack seemed to realise the odd tension that had filled the room, and quickly grinned, dispelling it.

“What else,” he said. “He can never back down from a dare, that's for sure.”

Michael snorted loudly. “We talking, like, rival challenges or stupid dares?”

“Oh God, _both_ ,” Jack said, shaking his head. “Eating weird crap or shoving ice down his pants – one of our crew dares him and he's at it in seconds, it's ridiculous. And fucking Felix has caught onto it now too, he's always doing stupid shit to challenge him and Geoff goes along with it every time. He's not stupid, though, if it was anyone other than Felix he wouldn't, but that guy's a douche. He's not really a threat at all.”

Michael couldn't help but grin. “I get it. I'm the same, can't back down from a challenge. Ray's lost a lot of money to me over the years.”

“Great,” Jack laughed, “You join us and I'll have to be prepared for even more stupidity.”

“Hey, you know what you're getting into now.”

The door opened and they both turned around, jumping slightly – but it was just Gavin who entered, looking haggard. Michael smiled at him in greeting, but he was a little worried. Had been since Gavin got back, because it was obvious he was still shaken up over whatever Edgar had done to him while he was in his clutches. But it seemed he was more resilient than Michael had ever given him credit for, because if he was upset, he was keeping it close to his chest, even if he looked like he hadn't gotten a wink of sleep last night.

“Hey Gav,” Jack said, and patted the bed. Gavin walked over and sat down at the foot.

“So I'm getting nowhere,” he began, and Jack waved a hand.

“Don't stress out about it. The heist is probably a better plan, anyway. Take down some of Edgar's men while we're at it.”

Michael's gaze flickered between them curiously. It seemed Jack had had a heel face turn in attitude towards Gavin as well, but it wasn't just a matter of not getting annoyed at him; there was something soft and almost careful in the way he looked at the other man, and Michael suddenly wondered if Jack knew something he didn't, if something had happened that he wasn't aware of.

“Since we're all talking about our boyfriends,” he said then, in a bid to change the topic, “I've got a question for you, Gavin.”

Gavin looked up at him, confused but curious. “Uhh, alright.”

Michael hesitated, suddenly wondering if it was a bad idea to bring this up – but whatever, he wanted to know, and he'd never been anything but straightforward. “Geoff and I went to check out your flat, that's how we got the data back, and there was some other guy's stuff all around. Burnie said his name was Gruchy?”

“Oh,” Gavin said – he looked a little startled by the lengths they'd gone to find him, but not offended. “Yeah – that's Dan, he was living with me for a bit.”

“You guys touching tips?” Michel asked, and Gavin spluttered for a moment.

“No! God, no, Jesus Christ. We're just friends. I mean, we're tight – really tight – but not. Not like that.”

“Right,” Michael said – and suddenly wondered why that made him so pleased. _What the fuck, Michael, what does it even matter if he has a boyfriend or not? It doesn't. Why would you even think about that._ Perhaps because he didn't like being surprised by people; he'd assumed Gavin single and it was a relief to know he hadn't been wrong.

Jack was watching the both of them carefully, and Michael ran his mouth before he could quite think about it.

“So is it the same for you? I mean, you're not as involved in the field as we are, so I imagine it'd be easier for you to date someone who's not in with this shit.”

“Theoretically,” Gavin said.

“Why only theoretically?” Jack asked, seeming as curious as Michael was by this point.

Gavin just shrugged. “Because in practice I don't really... date? I mean, I've seen a couple of people, but not like. Proper girlfriend or boyfriend.”

“Why not?” This was turning into the most chick flick-y conversation Michael had ever had, and he'd had some serious sleepover moments with Ray before (two grown men should probably never play truth or truth together, but so sue them, there had been alcohol involved. Only on Michael's part, though, which had given Ray some serious blackmail material against him – but that was a story for another time.)

Gavin just shrugged. “I have this thing, like, where I can't ask someone out without being bevved up because otherwise I get anxious about getting turned down. So I guess it's the same thing with dating, I don't want to see anyone seriously because if things go wrong we'd break up and it'd be messy and it's easier to just avoid that.”

“So basically you like banging people but you've got commitment issues,” Michael surmised.

Jack raised his eyebrows. “Sounds more like rejection issues,” he said.

Gavin just shrugged, again. “I'd be a crap boyfriend anyway.”

“That's remarkably self reflective of you,” Michael replied drily – except there'd been something a little too blasé in Gavin's tone. “Why?”

“Why not?” Gavin replied. “I'm lazy and selfish and spy on people for a living, what's to like?” This self assessment appeared to genuinely not bother him, which was admirable in its own way. Michael had always freely admitted to his own assholery. There was nothing more annoying than people who couldn't see their own flaws.

“What's to like,” he repeated, and pretended to think long and hard. “Fuck, I don't know. Your pretty face, but that's about it I guess.”

Gavin barked out a startled laugh. “Yeah, maybe – but like I said. I still shag people, I just don't date them.”

“Ryan told me you were a crap kisser.”

“He did _not_!”

“ _You kissed Ryan_?” Jack asked – and Michael realised they'd not related that part of the story before; he'd told Ray but not Geoff.

Gavin nodded, but a change had come over him; he seemed bashful almost, not quite meeting Jack's eyes as he replied, “We were sort of faking being husbands at the Corpirate's. It didn't mean anything, it was just part of our cover.”

“God damn,” said Jack, sounding impressed – Michael could see why, thus far Ryan had exposed more of himself than he'd ever expected.

Gavin got up quickly, muttering some excuse under his breath, and left the room in such a hurry he nearly tripped. Michael watched him go with raised eyebrows.

“I'm guessing he and Ryan made up, considering they went out together this morning,” he commented, and Jack 'hmmm'ed thoughtfully. Michael turned to him.

“What?” he asked. “What are you thinking?"

“Nothing,” Jack replied, “Just find it interesting that Ryan actually _kissed_ him.”

If anyone was gonna grow a soft spot for Gavin, Ryan was not the one Michael had expected either; he gave a wondering hum and nodded.

“So,” he said then, switching the topic back. “Tell me more about stuff you and Geoff have done.”

 

* * *

 

 

“You're good with a knife,” Ray commented, out of nowhere.

Ryan turned to look at him, unsure where this was going. The two of them were standing in a quiet street outside a slightly dingy store building, the door sign reading 'closed'. Geoff's contact would have been too alarmed at the sight of the mad mercenary, so they were waiting outside while Geoff conducted the deal.

“Thanks,” Ryan replied. “Where's this coming from?”

“Ehh, I was just thinking,” Ray replied with a shrug. “When you came out and killed those guys, under the pier? Solid knifework.”

“Thanks,” Ryan said, again, “It takes practice. But it's good when you need to be quiet. Or you want lots of blood.”

Ray pulled a face at that, and Ryan snickered quietly to himself – he perhaps took a little too much delight in creeping people out sometimes, but when you spent your whole life under a mask and a moniker you took amusement where you could get it.

“You carry one?” he asked, and Ray nodded, pulling it from his belt.

“Yeah, but I rarely use it. Got into it with Thaddeus, though, if you remember, and that wasn't too fun.”

“Show me?”

Ray repositioned the knife in his hand, made a few slashing motions.

“Okay,” Ryan said, “I see your problem, your checking hand should be in front. That way you can deflect attacks or set up your next move. The thing about knife fights is you should expect to get cut, just make sure you don't leave yourself open for it to be too badly. Like this.” He reached out and took hold of Ray's wrists, repositioning his arms.

“So should I be getting in close or trying to hold them back?”

“Depends on how big they are. But you're small – you should usually be the one trying to get up close and in there.” He stepped back. “Try again?”

Ray did so, far more effectively, and Ryan was helping him reposition his grip on the knife when Geoff emerged from the building, a duffle bag slung over his shoulder, moving up to them with an odd look on his face.

“Hey – I got them. You two ready to go?”

Ryan and Ray stepped apart from each other, nodding – and Ryan saw the way Geoff's eyes flickered between them curiously. He felt almost guilty of a sudden, like he'd been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“Ray,” Geoff said, “Think you're alright to take these to the car and come around to meet us at the docks? The two of us will go ahead and meet Ryan's guy.”

Ray nodded, taking the bag from Geoff and setting off, leaving the two of them standing in a somewhat awkward silence.

Ryan began to walk first, and after a moment Geoff picked up and followed him. He could tell the other man wanted to say something, but was chewing over the words. The silence made him tense, which only compounded his irritation at just how much other people's behaviour had been affecting his own mood recently. Any detachment he'd been preserving was dissolving away faster than he could think.

“Nice of you to help him out,” Geoff said finally, and Ryan glanced at him.

“He's smart. Probably a better shot than me with a rifle. I don't have a problem with giving him some extra tips. It's flattering to know I can help him with _something_.”

Geoff was looking at him with a raised eyebrow now. “Seemed like you were quite the teacher.”

Ryan looked away. It had been a long time – a very long time – since he took on any sort of mentor role towards anyone. He was accustomed to keeping his skills to himself, to making sure he was the most capable person in the room at any given moment. But there had been something oddly nice about helping someone else.

When he didn't reply, Geoff left out a soft sigh.

“Well, don't go giving away all your secrets. You know what they say. Teach them everything they know but not everything _you_ know and all that.”

“I gave him some tips, I'm not making him my God damn prodigy,” Ryan replied, with some amusement. “But yeah, I know what you mean. Honestly, if I was gonna bring someone up to pass the mask onto, it'd probably be Ray. Except he'd never take it.”

“You don't reckon he's cut out to become a big name?” Geoff asked, looking a little surprised. “He and Michael are working their way up, you know.”

“With Michael, sure,” Ryan replied, “Just not on his own. You need a certain kind of drive for that.”

Geoff frowned a little. “Do many people try to kill you?” he asked, and Ryan laughed somewhat hysterically.

“Oh, Christ, you have _no_ idea. Or maybe you do. But it's a lot easier to survive when you're the only person who knows all your secrets.”

“See, that's where we differ,” Geoff replied, “I imagine we both deal with the same shit. People trying to work with you who you don't want to work with, people trying to kill you all the time, pretenders and liars and all that crap.”

Ryan tilted his head. He hadn't thought about it that way before, but he supposed that was true; getting your name out there got you more opportunities and a lot more money, but it came with its downsides, and it seemed the downsides of being a criminal overlord were indeed rather similar to the downsides of being a renowned mercenary.

“You got where you are because you don't trust anyone else,” Geoff continued, “You shit on anyone in your way and rose to the top on your own. And I mean, that works, but I got to the same place by building up a crew of close knit people. And yeah, there are some things I don't trust anyone but Jack with, but I've got that support when I need it.”

“That could blow up in your face if any of them turn on you,” Ryan pointed out, and Geoff shrugged.

“And you not having anyone to rely on when you need it could blow up in _your_ face,” he pointed out. “So what I'm getting at is, what you do works for you and what I do works for me. We got where we are differently but they're both valid means.”

Ryan bit his lip. He could argue, sure, but it wouldn't change the fact that he knew Geoff was right.

And it wouldn't change the fact that no matter what he said, he'd put his foot in it. He'd started caring.

“My boyfriend has taken a liking to you,” Geoff continued, more quietly now. “If you do anything to make him regret that, I swear to God...”

“I have no intention of doing anything to hurt Jack,” Ryan said, but Geoff shook his head, firmly.

“I don't give a fuck about what you _intend_ ,” he said. “I don't think you intended to mess Gavin up that fucking badly when you left him behind. I don't think you intend to hurt Ray, but getting close to him like that? It's gonna upset him if you keep that up and then leave him in the dust. I don't know what you _intended_ when you came to ask for our help, but you're in it too deep now-”

“I know.” It burst out before he could stop it, and Geoff fell silent, staring at him.

“I _know_ ,” Ryan repeated, through gritted teeth – and Geoff watched him for a long, long moment.

He didn't need to explain further. Didn't need to take off the mask for Geoff to understand. That he _knew_ he was right, that he himself _did_ care – that he was just... working through it, or something, and the last thing he needed was people pushing him to comment on it or change his already changing mind.

Thankfully, Geoff caught on, and gave a firm nod.

“Okay,” he said then. And smiled a little. “Okay.”

They continued on to meet Ryan's contact in silence, but he fancied the tension that had lingered between them for the last two days had dissipated somewhat.

And Geoff Ramsey was someone who Ryan had heard a great deal about, for many years, and he'd naturally formed his own opinions and conclusions about the man, but for the last few weeks living with him, interacting with him – it had almost made him _wistful_ , because it was one thing to judge someone else from outside, but seeing how happy he was with Jack – seeing how this wasn't just a job for him, it wasn't just about the money, it was about his crew and his friends and having fun at the same time...

Ryan couldn't remember the last time he'd genuinely found what he was doing enjoyable.

Until now – because the camping trip had been good, in a way, and even going out to kill Clarence with Ray had been somewhat more exciting than his usual solo hits.

And now – now Michael and Ray were going to join Geoff, more likely than not, and Ryan _knew,_ deep down, that they'd be unstoppable – that even if something went wrong, if someone got hurt, that they'd still pick that any day over going their separate ways.

What was the point in surviving, after all, if it was only to go through the motions over and over? That wasn't living.

But pain – pain was something else entirely, and it was the fear of it that made Ryan continue to shy away, to refuse to dwell too much on why he might care what Ramsay thought of him.

 

* * *

 

 

“We come bearing gifts!” Geoff announced, as he strode through the door, and Michael rose to meet him, though his eyes sought out Ray first, falling on him with a smile.

“Hey,” Jack said, stepping forward, and the two of them met in a kiss, with a sort of casual ease that Michael almost envied.

He needn't have; with a mischievous grin Ray shouldered past Geoff.

“Oh my God, Michael, I haven't seen you in two hours, we must kiss immediately to reassure the others of our love,” he said, and wrapped a hand around the back of Michael's neck, pulling him in to press their lips together.

They pulled apart, and Michael caught a glimpse of Ryan rolling his eyes under the mask.

“You guys are dicks,” Geoff said, rolling his eyes too, “Especially since we're the ones having to put up with your fucking honeymoon period. Does Ryan know what you did on his airbed last night?”

“ _Nothing_ ,” Michael said, as Ryan turned to him, somehow managing to convey intense disapproval despite his entire face being covered. “We did nothing on the airbed, despite Geoff's eager encouragement.”

“Geoff,” Gavin piped up, “Jack, have you guys ever gotten stuck together because your facial hair got tangled up while kissing?”

“No, Gavin, what the fuck,” Geoff replied, turning to him.

Gavin shrugged. “Just wondering. That was a really beardy kiss. And, you know, your moustache is just so twirly at the ends.”

“I'll show you twirly at the ends,” cried Geoff, whatever the fuck that meant, and made to lunge at Gavin. He squeaked and ducked behind Michael, who grabbed his shoulder automatically to keep him from tripping over his own feet and knocking them both down.

“If we're quite done here,” Ryan said, but there was amusement in his tone. “Jack, we'll show you what we've brought in and we can see if there's anywhere in the city we can hit easily.”

“Did they just deliberately ditch us?” Michael wondered, as the three older men took the bag off into the bedroom, shutting the door behind them. “I think they just ditched us.”

Ray shrugged. “Screw 'em, they can do the planning or whatever. Less work for us. Any progress, Gav?” he added, and Gavin shook his head.

“No, sorry.”

“Ahh, don't worry about it. Actually, I had an idea on the ride over here, if you're not busy right now,” Ray said, and Gavin shook his head, looking at him curiously.

“What sort of idea?”

“Edgar's gonna be coming after us hard now,” Ray said, “And I mean, we're gonna take care of you, but just in case, you should learn some self defence.”

There was a moment of silence as Gavin took this in.

Then he said, “Nope. Not touching a gun, thanks, that won't end well.”

“God, Ray, don't put a gun in his hands please,” Michael said at the same time, “Or it won't be Edgar that kills us all.”

“No, no, not with weapons,” Ray quickly clarified. “Just like, make sure you can throw a punch alright and what to do if someone grabs you and shit.”

“Oh,” Gavin said, and nodded. “Yeah, that'd be good.”

“Michael, I appoint you deputy self defence instructor,” Ray said, and Michael mock-scowled.

“Why've I got to be _deputy?”_

“Because I had the idea. Let us begin right this moment,” Ray said, clapping his hands together, and Michael shrugged.

It was a good idea, he had to admit; even some basic self defence skills would have come in very handy back at the Corpirate's.

“I'm surprised no one's taught you this before,” he said to Gavin, who raised and lowered one shoulder.

“Dan tried,” he said, “Never really took it seriously though. I'm regretting that now, of course.”

There followed perhaps the most hysterical forty minutes of Michael's life. It was not Gavin's fault, though his lack of coordination and upper arm strength certainly contributed, but he and Ray were possibly the most incompetent teachers in existence. This did not take long for them to realise. Michael lacked patience, and Ray was crap at explaining things.

Gavin, when faced with any sort of opponent, seemed to believe that flapping and flailing wildly was a feasible defence strategy (which it _wasn't_ , Jesus Christ, you're not even _hitting him you idiot make a fist it's not fucking hard you just curl your fucking fingers!_ )

But they had a good laugh while doing it, because it was never not funny to imitate cheesy kung-fu moves, and even if Gavin was going to have bruised wrists tomorrow he at least now knew how to escape a grab.

“You suck,” Michael laughed, half-sinking to the ground as Gavin tried and failed to escape the loose choke-hold he had him in. “Come on, remember what you have to do?”

Gavin slammed down on his elbow, loosening his grip, and scrambled free, making the sorts of noises that only further convinced Michael he had been a pigeon in a past life.

“He's learning,” Ray observed, and Michael – panting, exhilarated – looked up at him to see him watching the both of them with a ridiculously fond smile on his face.

“Gavin, we're not gonna be there shouting instructions at you if you get in a fight,” Michael pointed out. “So you gotta, like, imagine us in your head like Yoda.”

“I'd be right minged off if I was stuck with you in my brain forever,” Gavin replied – and at that moment the bedroom door opened and the others emerged, still deep in conversation as they headed into the kitchen.

Michael got up off the floor, brushing himself down, and a wicked idea sprang to mind.

“Gavin, go punch Ryan,” he said.

Gavin spluttered. “What?”

“Go test out your new skills on him!” Michael said, and Ray laughed, but shook his head.

“Not so sure that's a good idea, man, he'd probably break him in half on instinct.”

“Party killer,” Michael replied, rolling his eyes. “But yeah, you're probably right.”

“Boys, get over here,” Geoff called out, and they obliged, trooping across the room to stand around the dining room table where the city map was spread out.

“We have a plan?” Michel asked, and Geoff nodded.

“There's a jewellery store here,” he said, pointing to the downtown area, “That Jack and I had been planning to hit for a while, so we can recycle our idea for that. Among the stuff we got are smoke bombs and masks and shit, so I'm thinking we use those as cover and then plant something on one of their cars that will let Gavin track them down.”

Gavin nodded. “Sounds good – any sort of GPS should do. There's enough cameras in that area that I can keep an eye on everything and make sure you guys don't get pinned in. If you're using smoke it'll be hard for you to see.”

“Good,” Geoff said, with a grin. “Ray, you stay up top and snipe. Michael, you and I hit the actual store. Ryan, you wait outside as cover. Jack's staying here with Gavin.”

Michael turned to Jack, expecting some sort of protest, but it seemed they'd already discussed and agreed on this in the bedroom, because he just nodded.

“So when are we doing it?” Ray asked, and Geoff shrugged.

“Uh... now? Why not? We've got daylight to burn.”

Michael barked out a laugh. “Right – okay. At least let me go take a piss first.”

Geoff nodded. “Everyone go get your shit together.”

Except as it turned out, getting his shit together took a little longer than Michael had anticipated – normally he tried to spend a bit of time working out which of his explosives and charges would be the most useful to take along, but the last-minuteness of this plan didn't afford him that opportunity, so he had to just grab whatever he thought he'd need. By the time he was ready to go the others were all waiting outside, and he cursed, half-jogging through the main room for the door.

Gavin got up to let him out, and as he unlocked the door he glanced at Michael, catching his eyes, and then smiled.

Michael smiled back automatically. “Uh, bye I guess.”

“See you later,” Gavin replied. “Good luck or whatever.”

“Thanks or whatever,” Michael shot back, sticking his tongue out – and Gavin's smile widened, his hand moving to Michael's back to guide him out.

As the door shut behind him Michael paused, schooling his features – wondering why the fuck the smile was still on his face – before shrugging it off and going down to meet the others.

 

* * *

 

 

Edgar's men showed up approximately ten minutes into the heist.

Michael had to be impressed at just how quickly he'd tracked them down. But things, luckily, seemed to be going according to plan – they set off the bombs and that confused a lot of the mercenaries, who didn't have the proper breathing equipment to operate within the affected zone.

Unfortunately they had not counted on the duck's duck-suit being that fucking complex, because she seemed completely unaffected. Apparently it had some sort of air filtration system.

Which meant that now Michael and Geoff were backed up against a wall, being peppered with gunshots – because the duck also happened to be wielding a machine gun – Gavin yelling in their ears.

“That smoke's gonna clear up so if you want to get to the car under cover, you need to do it fast.”

“Yeah, alright, if that fucking duck will let up,” Michael replied, through gritted teeth – Geoff had the GPS they needed to plant, but they were pinned down here. “Ryan, can you take her out?”

“Not from here,” Ryan replied – he was on the other side of the plaza, across from the jewellery store, taking down Edgar's men whenever he caught a glimpse of them through the smoke. This whole place was unfortunately quite a public area, but all the civilians had fled during the initial heist and the square was clear now. But it was only a moment later that they heard the faint wail of sirens.

“Police incoming. The duck's turning to go away,” Gavin said, “She's heading back to the car, it's too late to plant anything now.”

The smoke was starting to clear up too, and Michael glanced out from behind the wall – quite a few of Edgar's mercs were lying dead on the ground. He wondered just how many more the other man had in his employ. If they'd made a serious dent in his numbers yet.

“I'm heading down,” Ray spoke up through the earpiece, when Michael heard Gavin suck in a loud breath.

“ _Ray get down_!”

There was a rustling thud as Ray threw himself to the ground instantly, and Michael heard the loud crack of a rifle through the earpiece. Both he and Geoff flung themselves back against the wall.

“There's one man still up on top of the bank,” Gavin hissed. “He's sniping.”

“Change of plans,” Ryan said instantly. “We capture him. Maybe he knows something.”

Michael blinked – that was a pretty _drastic fucking change_ in plans – they hadn't prepared for taking a hostage, or getting up on top of the buildings, or any of that shit – but Geoff was nodding now.

“Alright, fine. Gavin, how can we do this?”

“Ray's in the best position to take him down. Michael and Geoff, if you turn down that side street you can climb up to the bank roof. But you'll need to distract him somehow so Ray can shoot him down.”

“I'll do it,” Ryan spoke up. “If I run across the plaza he'll aim at me and Ray can take him out.”

“He might also fucking _shoot you_ ,” Michael pointed out.

“No,” Ryan said, “Ray's faster. I'll be fine.”

“Okay,” Ray said – and it was only because Michael had known him so long that he caught the faint undercurrent of nervousness in his tone; not even from the scale of the job – they'd done harder things before – but, more likely, at the degree of confidence in Ryan's voice.

“Do it now,” Gavin said – and Michael peeked out from the wall again in time to see Ryan duck out from his cover and pelt across the plaza towards them, zig-zagging to make it harder to lock on to him. A shot rang out past him, shattering a lamp post – but a moment later he heard Ray fire as well.

“Got 'im,” Ray said then. “He's down – hit his leg pretty badly – but he's still armed, so be careful when you go up there. I'll go to the edge of the roof and see if I can cover you.”

Ryan skidded to a stop beside them. Michael could see his chest heaving, his breath loud and heavy through the filter of the masks they were all wearing for the smoke, and he was pretty sure it wasn't from the exertion of the run.

“Okay?” Michael asked, half-reaching out to touch his arm, and was surprised when Ryan nodded and didn't pull away.

“Police coming up fast,” Gavin advised, “If you're going to grab him, do it now.”

“Got it,” Geoff said, and motioned for the other two to follow him.

“Nice shot, Ray,” Michael heard Ryan murmur.

“Dude, I got your back,” Ray replied.

Ryan made a low humming noise that Michael couldn't quite interpret, but he had little time to dwell on it, as they made their way up to the bank roof to take their prisoner.

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **T/W: Torture of a non-main character. Not graphic but a couple of possibly disturbing concepts. Some discussion of alcohol/drinking problems.**

“How are you holding up?” Jack asked, quietly, as soon as they'd taken their earpieces out.

Gavin glanced across at him. They were driving out towards the outskirts of Achievement City. The retrieval of the hostage had gone without a hitch, and Geoff had called in a couple of favours in the force, corrupt cops who managed to get the police enough off their backs for them to slip away. But bringing their prisoner back to the apartment would draw far too much attention, so they were heading to another of Ryan's haunts that was more suitable for keeping and interrogating him. Jack and Gavin were to meet the others there.

“I'm top,” he replied, automatically.

It wasn't quite a lie. In the scheme of things – considered against other, much worse possibilities – he was certainly not doing _badly_. His physical injuries were mostly healed up, he'd gotten off lightly on that front. And he wasn't catatonic, not the way he'd gotten after Barry that first time.

Jack looked at him suspiciously, and he turned away. Perhaps 'top' was a little optimistic, because there was only so much his usual _don't-think-about-it_ coping mechanism could handle. It had not been equipped for things like, y'know, someone's bloody head getting shoved in a deep frier in front of him _._

“I'm _fine_ ,” he amended then.

“Okay,” Jack said then, with a final worried glance – and Gavin couldn't quite help but smile at his concern. Because sure, he couldn't sleep without thinking about it, he still got flashes of anxiety and panic, but he felt _safe_ , as much as one could – with the reassurance that the others had his back, the worst of his fears had drained away.

It was strangely comfortable alone in the car with Jack. A few days ago he had no doubt it would have been awkward, more than likely filled with an irritable silence.

But now that they were on the same page – Jack was lovely; Gavin could see why Geoff liked him. _Loved_ him. He was very good humoured, and when Gavin launched into his favourite pastime – ridiculous, shower-thought hypothetical questions – the other man responded with enthusiasm, even if he was not quite so creative as Ryan had been.

 

* * *

 

 

What had once been a trailer park out by a river on the bushy outskirts of town had been devastated by flooding some years ago, and was now an abandoned area littered with rubbish and muddy dirt roads. There was an old animal quarantine station in a clear area of ground, fallen into disrepair, and it was to here that they drove. The others' cars were already parked outside, and Michael was sitting on the hood waiting for them. He jumped up and waved at their approach.

“Hey. No one follow you here?” he asked as they got out, and Jack shook his head.

“No,” he replied. “You lose the cops alright?”

“Yep.” Michael looked around with a shiver, and not just from the brisk chill in the autumn air. “This place is creepy as shit. How many people do you reckon Ryan's killed in there?” he added, with a nod towards the stable building nearby.

“More than I'd like to think about,” Jack replied, grimly, already striding forward.

“I bet it's filled with the ghosts of dead horses,” Michael murmured, glancing across at Gavin with a wicked smirk. “I think there's a big furnace in there where they burned the bodies afterwards.”

“Stop it, Michael,” Gavin replied, with a nervous sort of laugh. “You're awful, you pleb.”

It was eerie, though, there was no denying that – far too quiet out here, as they'd turned off the main road driving in, and a haunted, damp sort of feel to the entire place. Gavin's sneakers squelched in the grass as they headed into the building, and he tried not to think about what else might be in there aside from mud.

It was dark in the stable, filled with a dank gloom broken only by the faint beams of sunlight filtering through the wooden boards of the walls, dust motes suspended within. The others were gathered around the centre of the main room, Ray perched on one of the stall doors, though he hopped off as they approached, catching Gavin's eye and smiling in greeting.

“There you are,” Geoff said, turning from where he stood, and revealing the man kneeling behind him.

Edgar's sniper had taken quite a beating; one eye was already bruised and swelling shut, blood dripping from his nose, his lip, a cut on his forehead. There was a bandage wrapped around one of his legs where he'd been shot, already spotted with blood, and his face was scrunched in pain, huffing harsh breaths through his nose over the scrap of cloth tied around his mouth in a makeshift gag.

His eyes dragged up at Gavin's arrival, meeting his, and for a moment Gavin froze.

There was anger in the sniper's eyes, hate and loathing – but the sight of him kneeling there, gagged and desperate and helpless-

_Suddenly it wasn't the sniper before him but the head of security from the Corpirate's mansion, kneeling in the restaurant, the smell of hot oil bubbling in the air around them-_

A soft thud as Ryan kicked the man in the side snapped Gavin from his reverie, and he jerked back to attention. Only Ray had noticed him zoning out, it seemed, the other man watching him carefully before he reached into his pocket and pulled out a phone and an intercom, handing them over to Gavin.

“That's the only stuff he had on him apart from weapons,” he said. “Thought you might be able to make something of it.”

“Yeah,” Gavin replied, grabbing them. “Um. So what actually is the plan here?”

“It's pretty straightforward,” Geoff said, looking down at the man kneeling before him with a discompassionate head tilt. “He's gotta know _something_. Edgar's bases, hideouts – where the duck and the pig spend most of their time. So we get it out of him.”

Ryan turned to Gavin. “You take that stuff and see if you can work out this guy's name, who he is. Might help us work out just how much he knows. In the mean time...” He turned back to the sniper and crouched in front of him, voice dropping into something low and menacing. “You might want to consider cooperating with us, because there's no way out from here. Tell us what we want and I'll kill you quickly. Or we can beat it out of you. You know how this goes.”

_You know how this goes_ . It was Edgar's voice now, muffled by a mask the way Ryan's always was – phantom fingers running over Gavin's stomach – he took a step back, nearly tripping over the uneven flooring, and they all turned to look at him.

“I'll, uh – I'll work outside,” he said, and practically fled the room, distantly hearing Ryan's voice behind him as he said, “Let him stew a little, consider his options.”

 

* * *

 

 

Getting outside felt like bursting free from a prison cell; the wide expanse of empty, marshy land that had felt so sinister before now seemed inviting, relieving after the enclosed dark space of the stables. Gavin walked over to the cars and climbed onto the hood of one, sitting cross-legged and pulling his computer onto his lap.

Throwing himself into work was a welcome distraction. He thought back to the sniper's face – he was a middle aged white man, slightly dweeby looking, but there had been a thin scar running through his left eye and his position as sniper meant he wouldn't often have to wear masks for jobs, not getting up close and personal with any potential witnesses.

Over the last few years Gavin had compiled a database of other people in their areas of work. It made life a lot easier when he had to track people down to already have a list of possible names, and it was this that he worked through now, trying to find out exactly who Edgar's man was.

When the stable door opened some time later he jumped, looking up to see Ray emerging. The other man waved as he came over, pulling himself up to sit next to Gavin.

“Hey Vav. Getting anywhere?”

Gavin nodded. “I was actually about to head back in. What's...” he trailed off, hesitant, then continued at Ray's encouraging silence. “Uh, what's going on in there? I didn't really hear anything happening.”

“Yeah, they haven't started beating him up or anything yet.” Ray looked almost uncomfortable at his own words, and Gavin frowned curiously. “Ryan's letting him think it over a bit. The anticipation of it might make him spill.”

“From what I've gathered, he doesn't owe Edgar any particular loyalty,” Gavin mused. “Not the way Jack or even you or Michael are loyal to Geoff.” _Not the way I'm loyal to Geoff_ , he thought, but didn't quite say it aloud. “There's no real reason for him to refuse to spill, not when he knows we can...” he trailed off, but the silence hung between them and he was forced to finish a little awkwardly: “Not when he knows we can hurt him.”

“Maybe Edgar has something on his family,” Ray considered. “A guy that clever... he'll have ways of making sure even his hired guns are kept under control. I don't know. But you should go tell Geoff what you've found.”

Gavin nodded, gathering his belongings and sliding off the hood. He hesitated. The doors of the stable seemed dark and menacing, and he pulled his jacket closer about him as a chill ran down his spine. The cold autumn air suddenly reminded him of Edgar's fridge.

A warm hand rested on his back suddenly, and he turned to see Ray standing very close to him.

“You okay?” Ray asked, brows furrowed.

Gavin nodded, tongue darting across his lips nervously. “Yeah – yeah, I'm fine.”

Ray didn't quite look like he believed him. His hand remained on Gavin's shoulder as they walked back inside, a steady reassurance.

The sniper was kneeling right where he had been when Gavin walked out. There was a fresh cut above his other eye, but that was his only new injury. The others were standing, just staring at him – the only sound in the room a rhythmic _sching_ every few seconds as Michael sharpened one of his knives.

“His name's Mark Nutt,” Gavin spoke up – and they all turned to him, even the sniper's head snapping up. Gavin avoided looking at him, keeping his eyes trained on Geoff.

“Nutt with a double 'T',” Gavin added, and Geoff snorted.

“Fucking unfortunate name you got there, buddy,” he said. “What else?”

“Your run of the mill mercenary, though he's got a name for himself as one of the best snipers in the business. Did a slew of different jobs for a long time, but for the last couple of years he's been working exclusively for Edgar. Not part of his inner circle, but a regular employee of his.”

“So he'll know about his hideouts then.” Geoff turned back to Mark Nutt, who continued to stare up at him defiantly. “Edgar's not coming to save you. You're not leaving this building alive. So you can cooperate and we'll kill you quickly, or we can do things the hard way.”

Ryan leaned forward and plucked the gag from Mark's mouth.

“Well?” he asked.

Mark squinted up at him through one swollen eye. Then he spat a gob of bloody saliva at Ryan's feet.

“Go fuck yourself,” he croaked out, and Ryan gave a heavy sigh, straightening up.

“The hard way, then,” he said, exchanging a glance with Geoff.

The unease in Gavin's stomach was building up, nervousness and anxiety starting to overwhelm him.

_They're going to torture him_ , he thought – and it was  _expected_ , he knew. He could see the necessity of it. And it wasn't as though he was foreign to such things – had seen footage of it on tapes before. But never in person. Never with people he worked with. And maybe he was a coward – maybe it was his recent experience with Edgar putting him on edge – but the thought of it made him feel sick suddenly.

“Wait.” The word left his mouth before he could even think about it, and suddenly they were all staring at him again.

“What?” Geoff asked.

Gavin opened and shut his mouth, suddenly unsure. “I... do you have to?” He dropped his voice a little so that Mark wouldn't hear, stepping in closer to Geoff, who frowned at him.

“Gavin..."

“Can't we... if you let him go I could track him, he might lead us-”

“Fucking hell, Gavin, we're not letting him _go,”_ Geoff snapped instantly. There was something in his voice – something determined, dark, commanding, and suddenly Gavin remembered that this was a dangerous man. Perhaps not in the way Ryan was dangerous – but it had been easy to forget while living with him, laughing with him, that Geoff had not made his way to the top of the food chain by being _nice_ to people.

“Right, of course, I... sorry.” He took a step back and Geoff's face softened a little.

It wouldn't take six of them to torture the one guy. Jack was already moving outside, muttering something about keeping watch, and Gavin skipped after him. He glanced back over his shoulder – gaze darting to Ray and Michael – and again saw that odd, uncomfortable look on Ray's face, as though what they were doing didn't quite sit right with him either. Michael had picked up on it too and had one hand loosely circled around Ray's wrist.

And Geoff – Geoff's shoulders were tense. Michael's mouth was set in a hard line.

_They don't want to do this_ , Gavin realised.  _They're going to do it – but they don't_ want  _to. They're not enjoying it_ .

The realisation gave him some reassurance – even if, when he shot a final glance at Ryan before walking out, the only thing he could pick up was that the other man seemed... calm.

Jack looked up when Gavin exited the building, giving him a tired half-smile. He was leaning against the car and Gavin returned to where he'd been sitting before, pulling out his phone. The signal was weak this far out, but he had enough on there to amuse himself.

To  _distract_ himself.

He couldn't hear much from inside – the occasional snatch of a raised voice, but nothing audible – and it was about twenty minutes before the cries started. Low, reluctant shouts of pain at first, but steadily building their way up – and his hands were shaking now, fingers fumbling and unable to hit the buttons of his phone accurately.

_Stop it, stop it, don't bloody think about it_ .

But it was bloody _impossible_ not to, not when the harsh, piercing scream that sounded from inside, suddenly enough to make even  _Jack_ jump, echoed the man's scream when Edgar had the duck push his hand into the oil. And it was rising back up now, the image that had circled around his head all night last night – haunted his dreams as soon as he even started to sleep – the man's head being pushed down. That gargling scream breaking off into a sizzling nothing. The fucking  _smell_ -

Gagging suddenly, choking, he slid off the car – nearly tripping in his haste – stumbled over to the bushes nearby and threw himself to his knees, heaving and retching.

A large warm hand was suddenly rubbing his back, another reaching up to push his hair away from his face.

_Dan_ , he thought, in a confused haze – but it was Jack's low voice in his ear, bringing him back to reality.

“Gavin? Gav... easy now, easy...”

He couldn't breathe. It felt like Edgar's hands were still around his throat. Like his lungs were still full of salty bay water.

He vomited again, though nothing much more came up, and was caught dry-heaving for a few moments before he slumped back, exhausted. Jack caught him against his chest, one hand still rhythmically massaging his shoulder.

“Hey, it's okay. Come on. Can you walk?”

His arm wrapped around Gavin's waist, pulling him upright, leading him to the car in a daze.

Gavin's mouth tasted like sour bile. When Jack handed him a bottle of water he took it gratefully, rinsing and spitting a couple of times before sipping and sipping as though if he drank enough the memory of it all would wash away.

And he wished, bitterly, that he was drinking something stronger, because  _that_ could make you forget – that was probably the only reason he'd even coped the first time. That and Dan.

_Dan_ . He missed him with a sudden fierce, aching passion.

“Stay here,” Jack said suddenly – and Gavin's head snapped up, panic slamming back into him – _leaving, he's leaving, you're leaving me?_ But Jack was just heading for the stable doors, one hand up to wave reassuringly at him, and he slumped back against the car again, reaching up to run his hands through his hair.

Any sort of calm, any peace of mind he'd managed to gather over the last couple of days had just completely shattered. No matter how  _safe_ he'd thought he could feel, the memory of it was right there behind his eyes, playing out again and again no matter how hard he tried to shut it down.

And the cries were still coming from inside – but they cut off abruptly as Jack entered.

He emerged a few minutes later with Ray and Michael in tow. Michael strode immediately up to him and threw an arm around his shoulders, pulling him close in a half-hug.

“Dude,” he said, “You're alright now. You're okay. Anyone tries to get you they'll have to go through me first.” A somewhat feral grin accompanied this last statement. “You hear me? I'll cut a bitch.”

“I'm sure that's very reassuring when you're waving a knife around,” Ray said drily, and Michael quickly shoved the blade he'd still been holding back into his belt.

“Whatever. He gets what I mean.”

Gavin was not sure what, exactly, Jack had told them, but he nodded. Since they had stopped being at odds with one another Michael's presence had become increasingly reassuring to him; there was something about just how loud and angry he was that seemed to Gavin to ward off any potential threat. Like he would just take it in stride – swear at it a lot – but deal with it and move on.

_Wish_ I _could just deal with it and move on_ , he thought, but managed a smile, and Michael grinned back. And then, because he was an asshole, starting poking him in the side until Gavin laughed and squirmed out from under his arm.

“Stay safe out there.” Michael was addressing Jack now, “Keep an eye out in case anyone follows you.”

“Wait, what?” Gavin demanded. “Where's Jack going?”

“We're getting you out of here, man,” Ray spoke up. “We'll go like, grab food and then head back to the flat. The others can deal with it here. They don't need all six of us hanging around.”

Gavin looked to Jack, who nodded – and the relief hit him like a truck then; he wouldn't have to sit out here and listen to someone being tortured to death.

“Come on then,” Jack said, already getting in the car – Ray and Gavin quickly followed suit, Michael waving them off before turning and heading back into the stable.

Gavin turned to look at Ray. He seemed paler than usual – he was not the loudest of people, but even now he seemed quieter, almost withdrawn.

“Was it getting to you too?” he asked – but Ray shook his head quickly.

“Nah, I've seen worse. Jack said he was buying so I was like, _lunch_. Free food, man, I'm all over that.”

He was lying.

Gavin knew him well enough by now to tell, and he was pretty sure Jack did as well. As it was, they drove on without conversation – Jack switching on the radio once they were close enough to the city to pick up a signal – and they listened to some truly terrible country pop songs before finally pulling into a roadside McDonalds full of truckies.

The silence stretched on until they were sitting in a booth over cheeseburgers. Then Jack spoke up – with superb timing, as Gavin had just taken a sip of his drink.

“You ever killed someone, Gavin?”

He nearly choked, soda going up his nose and making him cough wildly as it fizzed.

“Jesus. Ow. Um, _no_.”

“You must have been in dangerous situations before though,” Jack said, with a carefully measured look.

“Yeah, but I don't normally go out into the field,” Gavin explained. “So I've never had to.”

“Okay,” Jack replied. “That's good. Ray, how many people have you killed?”

“A lot,” Ray replied – carefully. “You going somewhere with this? I'm not...” he trailed off, then continued, almost defiantly, “I'm not _ashamed_ of it. I know you've killed just as many. And none of them were civilians.”

“That's true,” Jack said. “And you're proving my point perfectly. We don't kill civilians. Not unless we have to.” He turned back to Gavin. “But you need to understand something. We're not the good guys here. Not even close. _You're_ not the good guy.”

Gavin opened his mouth to say he knew that, but Jack raised a hand to shush him.

“Geoff,” he continued, “Is not a cruel person. He's doing what he has to right now. He's done it before. But we don't make a _habit_ of it. Torturing someone...” The word seemed too heavy for the almost casual way he said it. “It's a big thing. Deliberately causing someone so much pain. It weighs heavy on you. It's not _fun_ , not unless you're a sadist. You kill enough people, you get used to it.”

Gavin looked at Ray, who was methodically removing the gherkins from his burger and eating them. There was an odd, almost hard look on his face. But when he realised they were waiting for him to contribute, he looked up and gave a reluctant nod.

“Yeah,” he said. “It gets easier. You stop thinking about it.”

Gavin wondered just how easy it was for Ryan to kill, given he had so many times before. This wasn't anything he hadn't already discussed with Dan, anyway, and even if the topic made him uneasy, it wasn't too difficult for him to shrug it off.

“What I'm getting at,” Jack said, “Is that I do it too. Everyone who decides to play things this way knows what they're getting into. Mark knew that when he decided to work for Edgar. So I don't feel sorry for him. I don't regret what we're doing. But I also don't want to watch it. And,” this addressed to Ray, “Just because Michael doesn't mind it doesn't mean you have to pretend you don't either.”

Ray relaxed visibly at that, a slightly awkward grin crossing his face.

“Yeah,” he said, sounding relieved. “I just... like I said, I've seen worse happen. But I've never... we've never done it ourselves. And I guess it just hit me that that could have been me. I've sniped for guys hundreds of times before. If I'd been caught...” He shook his head. “But like you said. We know what we're getting into.”

Jack nodded. With this conversation out of the way, their meal became far more relaxed.

“It was a mistake bringing you in there,” Jack said then, turning to Gavin. “We should have realised it could be triggering. Sorry about making you sit through part of that.”

Gavin flapped a hand, his smile coming more easily now. “Don't worry about it. I just kinda wish there was another way to get information out of people. Like, I don't know, hypnotising them or something.”

Ray laughed. “Hypnotising them? Really?”

“Yeah!” Gavin cried, defensively, “It's a _thing_.”

“It's all a stage act,” Jack replied. “I don't believe it could possibly actually work.”

“Dude, people are into that shit,” Ray said, “Like erotic hypnotism and all.”

Jack pulled a face. “That's... interesting.”

“Or at least, like, not _hurting_ him to get it out of him,” Gavin said. “Couldn't we just threaten to feed him wet bread or something.”

“Wet _bread_?” Ray demanded, and Gavin nodded furiously.

“That's like... that would just be so gross, I think he'd spill immediately if we forced him to eat it.”

“What's so bad about wet bread?” Ray asked, but even the thought of it was starting to make Gavin nauseous.

“No. It's the worst thing in the world to me,” he insisted, “Just the texture, it's all soggy, it's...” He trailed off, gagging, and Jack leaned over and thumped him on the back.

“Jesus Christ, don't make yourself throw up.”

Having derailed from the original subject, the conversation quickly devolved into stupid things Ray and Jack had dared Michael and Geoff to do before, and things took a far more lighthearted return. Gavin let himself relax, let his worries slip from his mind, at least for the moment.

And it was then that he noticed it.

He'd been taking note of it subconsciously for a while – he couldn't exactly turn off his ability to observe things, it had become habit by this point, part of his job – but it was only here and now, alone with Ray and Jack, that it really became apparent.

In casual conversation, unrelated to missions or jobs, Ray looked at Jack with darting, nervous little glances. Didn't quite meet his eyes when he was listening to what he had to say. And when he spoke to him, it was a little too fast, a little too excited.

It was the way that you spoke to a new friend that you really, really wanted to get to know better – someone you were excited to get along with – and Gavin had been much the same with Geoff and Jack at first, in light of their being so _famous_ in their sphere, but he was pretty sure it hadn't lasted more than a day or so.

And Ray wasn't even _aware_ he was doing it, he could tell – and he'd noticed him doing it with Ryan as well, now that he thought about it.

Jack hadn't seemed to pick up on it either – and Gavin shrugged it off. It was strange, sure, but it didn't _mean_ anything. Just an interesting observation.

 

* * *

 

 

The flat was quiet with just the three of them there. Gavin removed himself to the kitchen, where he sat with his laptop, keeping an eye on the streets in case anything cropped up. He wasn't sure where the other two had gone; vaguely recalled Jack saying something about staying on watch.

Alone in here, with nothing but his thoughts, the knowledge of what Geoff, Michael and Ryan were doing right now began to creep up on him again, leaving him anxious and shaken.

Starting to get restless, he rose from the table and began wandering about the kitchen, opening and shutting cupboards at random. Maybe it was a bit nosy to look around Ryan's house when he wasn't there – but he hadn't exactly told them not to touch anything, and Gavin had already had a poke around, just not in this room.

It was telling, he thought, that Ryan kept his flat so scrupulously clean. If it was truly a hideout, he wouldn't have expected to have company over. Wouldn't have everything already locked away and tidy.

Which meant he did have people over, now and then. Gavin suddenly found himself wondering who. One night stands from bars? Did he have friends who didn't know his identity as the mad mercenary? Surely not. He dismissed that thought instantly as stupid.

_Lonely people keep their houses clean_ , he mused, reaching to open a cabinet.  _Because they still have some sort of hope that someone will come. If you're not lonely, you don't bother._

He paused as his eyes fell on the bottles of alcohol in the cupboard. It seemed he'd found Ryan's liquor supply. The man might not have kept many groceries around the place, but he certainly had no small supply of bevs.

And suddenly – suddenly Gavin was _tempted_ , because Edgar was still there, a constant presence at the back of his mind, crowding for space against Barry.

He bit his lip.

Truth be told, the period he'd been working for Geoff had been the first streak in a long time he'd gone without getting drunk almost every night. It wasn't healthy, he knew – Dan had been worried as all hell about this sudden habit – but making himself black out was the only way he could even get a full night's sleep any more.

Drinking didn't make it go away. Only for a while – and then it came back _worse_ – but the few hours that he couldn't remember were a welcome reprieve, and almost without thinking about it his hand began to reach for a bottle.

“Vav?”

Ray's voice made him jump violently, and he whirled around. Something like guilt pooled in his chest, and he wasn't quite sure why.

“R-Ray.”

“Whatcha up to?” Ray tilted his head curiously, and Gavin slammed the cabinet door shut behind him.

“Found Ryan's bevs,” he replied. His heart was slamming in his chest. Part of him was annoyed at Ray's interruption, the other half almost _relieved_.

Ray grinned a bit. “Raiding his stash?”

“That might have been the plan.” He sat back down, though, and after a moment Ray slid into the chair across from him, drumming his fingers restlessly against the tabletop.

“Michael texted. Mark's still not spilled anything,” he said then, and Gavin gave a silent nod.

They sat without speaking for a few minutes.

“Were you scared?” Gavin asked. The question sprang to him out of nowhere, and Ray looked up.

“When?”

“During the heist. When Ryan told you to shoot Mark. Were you scared?”

“I wasn't _scared_ ,” Ray replied – but there was something thoughtful in his tone. “I was... nervous.”

“Why?”

“Not because of the job. I've done harder. But Ryan... Ryan trusted me, and I wasn't sure why.” He shook his head, fisting his hands in the ends of his sleeves. “I guess it sort of hit me that if I failed – if he died – it would be my fault. And that made me nervous.”

The glance he darted at Gavin at this admission was wary, as though expecting some sort of judgement – but Gavin just nodded.

“Okay,” he said.

“Yeah.” Ray forced a quick smile – but for whatever reason, this topic of conversation had spooked him, and he got up from the table and quickly left the room.

Left alone once more, Gavin found his gaze drifting again to the liquor cabinet.

_Not yet,_ he thought –  _just wait, maybe... maybe it will get better on its own._

Bloody fat chance of that. He was deluding himself, he knew – but for now he hung onto that futile hope. With a groan he buried his head in his arms, squeezing his eyes shut and _waiting_ , hoping that the others would finish up quickly – that Mark would spill or die or _something_ – because he felt like he was teetering on the edge of an abyss, that it would take very little to fall.

 

* * *

 

 

Ryan had started with the fingers.

Geoff was pretty sure it was so that if Mark Nutt somehow got free, he would be unable to attack them. It was very hard to attack people without fingers.

Now they stood in a circle around the gasping man, who knelt in a pool of his own blood, jaw still resolutely clamped shut even as tears of pain ran down his face. Ryan's method of removing digits was... brutal; he didn't just chop them off. There was peeling involved. Geoff felt a little ill.

Not that he let it show. He had seen worse and kept a straight face – you had to be able to, with his reputation – and he wondered if Ryan's mien was as stony under his ever-present mask.

Michael was holding up well, too; a little pale but grimly determined.

The three of them were all on the same page, and that more than anything made it easier for Geoff to hold up. He wasn't _enjoying_ this, not by any stretch of the word – but they all knew it was their only route to Edgar at the moment. And he didn't grudge Jack for leaving – nor Ray, and God, certainly not _Gavin._ But he was glad that Ryan had taken control of this particular endeavour, and having Michael there for support was... reassuring.

“I'm not even close to running out of things to remove.” Ryan's voice was low, flat – it nearly sent shivers down Geoff's spine. God, he could be a creepy bastard when he wanted to, and if they weren't on the same side he might have been worried. “So you might want to reconsider your loyalties.”

Mark remained silent, leaning forward to let blood and spit drip from his mouth to the floor.

“What do you owe Edgar?” Ryan asked, leaning in and getting a tight grip on his hair, tilting his head up to look him in the eyes. “Nothing. Why let yourself suffer for him?”

Mark cleared his throat, and Geoff and Michael perked up in anticipation – but he _laughed_ , then, a harsh, hoarse croak of a laugh.

“He told us about you,” he rasped. “ _Ryan Haywood_.”

Ryan went rigid as a plank. Geoff could see the way his shoulders stiffened, even under his jacket.

“You'll want to think really fucking carefully about what you say next,” Ryan growled – but Mark just huffed at him, dribbling more bloody saliva onto his shoes.

“Keep pretending,” he hissed. “Even machines break down.”

Ryan's grip tightened on his hair – but it seemed he'd said all he was inclined to, because he fell silent again, and after a moment Ryan let go of him and straightened up slowly.

Geoff and Michael exchanged glances – both wary of the sudden coldness that had overtaken Ryan.

“Michael,” Ryan said, slowly, “In that back stall there's a horsewhip and a length of rope. Could you fetch them for me?”

“Gladly,” Michael replied, moving to obey instantly. He'd been like that the whole time – following Ryan's orders without question. Even if he wasn't enjoying what was going on, he seemed eager to please the older man.

Geoff frowned. He wasn't blind to the fact that even if they were wary of him, to a certain extent Michael and Ray looked up to Ryan. It was hard not to when he'd made such a name for himself.

After their little talk earlier that day, he felt somewhat more inclined to trust Ryan. He had been worried – very worried – when he noticed how attached all the others were getting to the mercenary, especially Jack, since Ryan seemed to care very little for them in turn.

But it was becoming increasingly apparent that he _did_ care. Was struggling with it, perhaps – but it was enough for Geoff.

The relief he'd felt at that realisation, though... that was worrying as well. Because while he'd agreed to work with Ryan, he hadn't anticipated starting to _like_ the man. Let alone start feeling _fond_ of him.

Still – as much as he wanted to trust him, the innate protectiveness he felt towards Michael and Ray was keeping him wary, and he intended to keep a close eye on _all_ of them in the near future.

“Here you go,” Michael said, upon his return.

Ryan nodded, reaching out to take the rope from him. “Help me with this,” he said, jerking his head towards Mark Nutt and then towards the rafters overhead, just the right height to string someone up by the wrists.

Again, Michael nodded immediately and moved to help, and after a moment Geoff followed as well.

 

* * *

 

 

By the time evening fell, Mark Nutt still hadn't spoken, and seemed on the verge of falling into a catatonic state. In the interests of him not dying on them, they decided to call it quits for the night.

“Michael,” Geoff said tiredly, as he moved to retie the man's hands – slippery with blood – behind his back. “Grab the first aid kit from the car and tend to some of his wounds, will you? Need him alive for tomorrow, after all.”

Michael nodded. His obedience, it seemed, extended to Geoff as well, because he darted off right away.

Ryan had moved to stand in the back door of the stables. His shoulders were slumped tiredly, in an odd moment of vulnerability, but he straightened up when Geoff approached.

“Still not talking,” Geoff murmured, and Ryan raised and lowered one shoulder.

“He will,” he said, confidently. “They take a while to crack. But they always do, in the end.”

Geoff tilted his head at him. “You do this often?”

“No,” Ryan replied, grimly. “But this isn't my first.”

Geoff watched him carefully.

Ryan sounded exhausted, and Geoff knew it wasn't just Gavin who didn't sleep at night.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

Ryan stiffened again. He glanced at Geoff out of the corner of his eye, warily, as though he wasn't sure the question was genuine. Geoff stared resolutely back, and after a moment Ryan gave a jerking nod.

“I'm fine. I'll be better when we're on track to Edgar again.”

“Won't we all,” Geoff huffed. He reached out to press Ryan's arm, and felt the other stiffen under his touch. He wasn't quite sure why he continued to hold on after that – why he found it so satisfying that Ryan didn't pull away, and, after a few minutes, even relaxed.

The sound of a car pulling up outside made them both whip around, hurrying through the stable to the front of the quarantine station – but they quickly relaxed when they realised it was one of their own cars, and that it was Ray who stepped out. Michael was already moving to greet him, wiping blood from his hands with a towel.

“Dude, you fucking drove all the way out here?” he asked, going in for a shoulder clap, then hesitating awkwardly as he realised they weren't restricted to that anymore.

Ray rolled his eyes, pulling him in and kissing him soundly on the lips before stepping back. “Yeah. I _can_ drive, you know.”

“Yeah, out of fucking necessity. You're crap at it.”

“You're not much better. Besides, I got here, didn't it?” He looked up, catching sight of Geoff and Ryan coming towards him. “Hey. He still hasn't talked?”

Geoff shook his head, with a frustrated sigh. “Stubborn as dicks. We've decided to stop for the night, let him rest up. Jack and Gav back at the flat?”

Ray nodded. “Yeah. I came out here to relieve you, since you guys probably need to go rest up and eat something.”

“I'll stay if you're staying,” Michael said immediately. “There's food in the car.”

Geoff nodded. “Make sure Mark eats something too. Don't want him passing out on us.” He turned to Ryan. “You staying here, or heading back?”

“I'll come back to the flat,” Ryan replied. He turned to Ray, reaching out to grip his shoulder firmly – and fixed both he and Michael with a stern look. “You should be fine out here. No one knows about this place. But keep an eye on him. Make sure one of you is on watch at all times.”

There was an undercurrent of concern in Ryan's voice, and it wasn't just about their prisoner escaping. Geoff smiled inwardly as he realised Ryan was _worried_ about leaving the two younger men alone. _Progress_.

“We'll be fine,” Ray assured him.

“As long as the ghosts of the horses don't get us,” Michael muttered, and Ray turned to him with a fond sort of smile.

Geoff rolled his eyes. _Young fucking love,_ he thought, but couldn't help but grin himself.

“In that case, we'll be off,” he said. “See you tomorrow morning. Stay safe – check in by text every hour. If you don't I'll call, and if you don't pick up we'll come out here to check on you. So please keep your phones on to save us having to drive out here for no reason.”

“Sure,” Michael replied, rolling his eyes. “Wouldn't want to interrupt your fucking beauty sleep.”

“Hey, this moustache didn't get this magnificent on its own,” Geoff replied. He tapped Ryan's elbow. “Come on then.”

 

* * *

 

 

The silence in the car somehow managed to be companionable rather than awkward. Geoff drove, and Ryan, in the passenger seat, spent some time motionless with his head resting against the window, so still that Geoff thought he might have fallen asleep.

He hadn't, though, and after a while he reached up under his mask and rubbed his eyes. His head was still angled such that Geoff couldn't see his face, even as he glanced over with unashamed curiosity.

Ryan noticed, of course.

“You've shown Michael and Gavin. Might as well let the rest of us see,” Geoff commented.

“I've got to keep some secrets,” Ryan replied, but Geoff was certain he was smiling under the mask.

“You have a moustache under there?” Geoff demanded – and Ryan let out a laugh at that, startled but genuinely amused.

“No, don't worry. I'm not about to overtake you on the facial hair front.”

“Good.”

The apartment complex was dark and sleepy by the time they got there.

“Your neighbours are quiet people,” Geoff commented, as they walked up to his flat, and Ryan shrugged.

“I scoped out the place before buying. None of them suspect a thing. Although that may change the longer all six of us stay here.”

There was something almost wistful in his tone, but he didn't say any more on the matter.

Jack was waiting for them, sitting on the couch drinking tea. He moved to greet Geoff with a kiss as he entered – then smiled at Ryan.

“No luck?” he asked, and Geoff shook his head. Jack's hand moved to his arm, squeezing gently.

“Tomorrow then,” he said. “Ray told me he'd stay over there, I'm guessing Michael opted to stay with him?”

“Indeed,” Ryan replied. “So it's just us here for tonight. I'll take first watch.”

“I'll take second,” Jack replied.

“Sure you're up for it?” Geoff asked, worriedly – Jack's voice was still raspy and a little congested, though his coughs had mostly receded over the course of the day.

Jack nodded. “I'm _fine_. Ryan, you want a cup of tea or anything?” he called out, as Ryan started striding out towards the balcony, but the other man just shook his head and headed out, shutting the balcony door behind him.

Jack turned to Geoff with raised eyebrows. “He alright?”

“I think so,” Geoff replied with a frown. He looked around. “Where's Gavin?”

“Kitchen, I think.” Jack reached out and poked at the bloodied spots on Geoff's shirt. “Go shower, I'll meet you in the bedroom when you're done.”

“Oh. I'm not sleeping on the couch tonight then?” Geoff asked.

Jack rolled his eyes. “Ryan's got a big bed, I don't see why you should. And _no_ ,” he added quickly, at Geoff's mischievous grin. “We're not fucking in Ryan's bed. You're terrible. You're awful. I heard about you encouraging Ray and Michael last night. _No_. We are guests here.”

“Good guy Jack,” Geoff muttered, with an exaggeratedly pained pout, but made his way to the bathroom.

It was a relief to shower, to wash the grime and blood off himself – the more brutal things they got up to always left him feeling somehow unclean, even if he should have been used to it by now.

He was crossing the dark living room when Jack suddenly emerged from the bedroom, shutting the door behind him and pacing over to him.

“What's up?” Geoff asked, a little confused.

“Okay, I've got Gavin in there,” Jack said, pointing back towards the bedroom. “And he's really... off.”

“Off?” Geoff demanded – but his stomach had dropped now. “What does 'off' mean?”

The night previous he had been unsurprised to wake up to find Gavin having a major-ass freak out in the bathroom. He didn't know quite what had gone down with Edgar – only what Jack had told him, which wasn't much – but whatever it was had obviously rattled him pretty badly, not to mention brought up memories of whatever had happened last time with Barry.

Calming him down had been... interesting, to say the least, and they'd ended up together on the couch somehow. If anything that night had only intensified what protective instincts Geoff felt towards the other man tenfold.

He regretted even bringing him over to the quarantine station. Wished he'd thought through their plan of capturing one of Edgar's people before dragging Gavin into it.

“He's pretty tipsy,” Jack said, mouth twisting oddly in an expression Geoff couldn't quite read. “Was on the way to getting blackout drunk when I caught him at it.”

Geoff was not one to preach, considering his own relationship with alcohol.

“He upset? Scared?”

“I don't know,” Jack said. “Just... come see for yourself.”

With a frown, Geoff followed him into the bedroom.

Gavin was sitting on the edge of the bed, quite literally twiddling his thumbs. When he saw Geoff he looked up with red rimmed, slightly unfocused eyes, and gave a wide, almost nervous sort of grin.

“Hello Geoff.”

“Hey Gavvy.” Geoff moved to stand in front of him, raising an eyebrow. “You shitfaced yet?”

“No. I bloody _wish_ , tell your God damn boyfriend he's not my mum.” Gavin directed a somewhat poisonous look at Jack, and Geoff raised his eyebrows, wondering what exactly had gone down in the kitchen to lead to Jack dragging Gavin in here like a kid being sent to their room.

“Yeah, well, I think you've had enough, we don't need you hungover tomorrow.”

“Don't care about the _hangover.”_ Even if he wasn't full on drunk yet, the words still spilled out of Gavin's mouth like he couldn't quite control them. “I just want to bloody well _sleep_.”

“Hot milk normally works for that,” Jack piped up.

“Take your hot milk and shove it up your crev,” Gavin replied, testily, and stood up from the bed, swaying a little.

Geoff planted himself in his path. “The only person who shoves things up his 'crev' is me, Gav,” he replied, drawing a rather unamused scowl from Jack. “That's what the drinking's about? You can't sleep?”

“Don't wanna talk about it,” Gavin informed him, and tried to push past him to the door. Geoff caught his arm, pulling him back, and Gavin spun around in his grip. Then his eyes fell to Geoff's body, and widened a little.

“Geoff's in a towel,” he announced, and Geoff rolled his eyes.

“A+ observation skills there, buddy.” He'd forgotten to bring new clothes to the bathroom with him.

Instantly Gavin reached out and whisked the towel off. Geoff squawked loudly, scrambling to catch it and cover himself, and Jack let out a rather alarmed noise.

“Jesus _fucking_ Christ, Gav, what are you playing at?”

“You grabbed my wrist,” Gavin replied. “I wanted you to let go.” Then he giggled – and okay, he was much, much tipsier than Geoff had originally thought. “Nice nob, Geoffrey.”

“Sit yourself the fuck down.” Part of Geoff wanted to laugh, the rest was worried and annoyed. He grabbed Gavin's shoulders and pushed him back down to sit on the bed, then pointed a finger at him.

“ _Stay_.”

“'m not a dog.”

“Lord give me strength,” Jack muttered, and Geoff couldn't help but nod agreement as he walked over to his suitcase and pulled on some pants.

“You can stop staring at my boyfriend's ass any time,” he heard Jack say behind him, though there was little venom in it. The inebriation was something of a mitigating factor, Geoff supposed.

“Sorry. It was kind of noticeable when he bent over. Well good ass though. Congratulations.”

Geoff took a deep breath, trying to work out exactly what he was going to do about this. Gavin was obviously a mess. This wasn't something he could just wing on the fly. _Think methodically. What's the problem here?_

It came to him. He turned to Gavin, gaze stern and commanding. “Take off your shirt.”

Gavin froze, seeming to sober up in an instant at the command.

“What?” he asked.

“You heard me,” Geoff said, quiet but intent. “Take it off. Jack told me what happened to you. I know about the scars. I want to see them.”

Jack moved up next to him, fingers circling around his wrist and squeezing gently, a silent question – _what are you playing at_?

Geoff ignored him, gaze fixed on Gavin, who was staring back at him – eyes wide, slightly bloodshot. Scared under their defiance.

Then he stood up and marched for the door. Geoff grabbed him and practically threw him back onto the bed; it wasn't hard to pin him down, despite his squirming.

“You heard me, Gavin, _do it_.”

“ _Fuck you_ ,” Gavin spat. In a surprisingly fluid motion, he yanked his wrist in the direction of Geoff's thumb, breaking his grip – and shit, someone had to have taught him that – and then grabbed at his face, practically shoving his fingers up Geoff's nose in an attempt to get him off. “Fuck you, fuck you, _fuck you_ -”

“ _Gavin_.” Spluttering, Geoff reared back – but Jack had moved up to help now, arms wrapping around Gavin from behind and pulling him back against his chest in a mockery of a bear hug.

“Take it off,” Geoff ordered – tugging at the hem of the shirt now, Gavin slapping at his hands fruitlessly. “You can't hide from it, Gavin – that's your problem, okay? You keep it all bottled up inside. I've had my share of fucking nightmares, okay, I know what it's like to not be able to sleep. You need to let it out or it _festers_. Just _trust_ me, okay?!”

Jack moved to help him yank the shirt up over Gavin's head and Gavin curled in on himself immediately, hair wildly messed up from where the fabric had pulled over it. Jack let him go but he made no move to escape now, just sat hunched over, shoulders heaving as the two of them stared at him.

Geoff had prepared himself for seeing them, but it still hit him hard, those marks of hurt – distressingly similar to what they'd been inflicting on Mark Nutt today – again that surge of anger hit him, the desire to go out and _tear apart_ the people responsible for it.

Dan had already done that. This was over, in the past – except not for Gavin, not now. And that was the problem, really.

“Gavin...” Despite the rage he felt, he kept his hand gentle as he reached out to smooth the other's hair down. Jack was rubbing his back now, and Gavin leaned into the touch.

“I know you're scared,” Geoff said quietly. “And what happened to you was _horrible_ , I get that. But there's a difference between working through your shit and quashing it down. Drinking to forget isn't a permanent solution. _Trust me_. And I'm not saying you have to talk about it, but pretending it didn't happen at all? That's not healthy. That doesn't work. It happened. It sucks, but it happened, okay. And you _survived_. Don't let Barry – don't let _Edgar_ – drag you down again.”

“I can't stop thinking about it.” The words were choked, shaky – rising thick from the back of his throat like he was about to throw up. “I can't stop – I can't _stop thinking about it_.”

“I know. But it's been two days. Memories fade. _Scars_ fade.” He reached out then, touching the most prominent of the wounds; a thick, silvery line snaking right around his torso, a gouge that looked deeper than a knife cut or thin whiplash. Gavin flinched a little, then half-slumped forward, and Geoff caught him – pulled him against his chest and let him just _shake_. Work through it.

He caught Jack's eyes over the top of Gavin's head and gave a small smile; Jack smiled back, shifting closer on the bed to close in on Gavin's other side.

Some people might not have liked to be touched after what had happened to them; Gavin was the opposite, it seemed the contact reassured him that they were _there_ , not going anywhere.

_Is this what Gruchy did for him?_ Geoff thought – and wondered, suddenly, why that sat so uneasily with him, the thought of some stranger he didn't know being close enough to Gavin to offer him this sort of comfort.

They sat for what seemed like a long while, but likely wasn't; time seemed to have frozen in the room, all still and silent outside.

And even Geoff couldn't quite pinpoint what caused the change – except as Gavin calmed, the panic, the adrenaline, faded away – and suddenly he realised exactly how close their position was. He was shirtless, Gavin too, all three of them sat very near to each other on the bed, bare skin pressed to bare skin. He could feel Gavin's heart hammering against his; the rough hair of his chest scraping against Geoff's as he sat back a little.

“Umm,” Gavin said at last, eloquently.

“Like I said,” Geoff repeated. “You won't be okay overnight. Drinking won't make it better. But it will _get_ better. Scars fade.” 

He reached out, Gavin's eyes tracking his hand as he moved to run his fingers over the marks on his chest. And he'd intended to just make Gavin look at them – to accept them – except the motion ended up too intimate somehow. Gavin shivered when he touched him, and there was a terrible, frozen moment in which some sort of  _tension_ built up between them – and Jack's knee, bumping against Geoff's, suddenly seemed burningly, feverishly hot – then Gavin jerked himself from their hold, scrambling up off the bed.

“I,” he stuttered, “Uh – thanks. For that.” He was painfully awkward – his words slurring a little, making Geoff recall that he was still somewhat intoxicated – and all Geoff could do was nod as he watched him stumble out of the room. Hopefully to just crash on the couch.

_What the_ fuck  _was that?_

He looked at Jack, wondering if he'd felt it too – that strange electric tension that he didn't quite dare to contemplate the meaning of – and Jack stared back at him, almost thoughtfully.

“He'll be okay,” was what Jack said – which broke Geoff out of the mood.

He nodded again, suddenly feeling nothing but exhausted – and they did not talk further as they turned out the light and climbed into bed.

 

* * *

 

 

Things were awkward the next morning, and Geoff didn't even know why; Gavin lurked about in the living room, avoiding his gaze. He looked like crap warmed over, and obviously hadn't gotten a wink of sleep the night previous, but did not seem inclined to discuss it with any of them – so Geoff left him in Jack's care, heading out with Ryan at a quite early hour.

“Something's up with Free,” Ryan said, in the car as they drove. “I take it you know that already.”

Geoff gave a tired nod, running a hand over his face. “Yeah. He's shaken up over Edgar.”

“I'm not surprised,” Ryan replied grimly. “He knows how to... shock people.”

Geoff gazed at him sidelong. Some of Ryan's torture methods were almost disturbingly creative. It was only the fact that Geoff knew he wasn't being cruel for the sake of being cruel that kept him from feeling overly uneasy in the man's presence.

He was seized, then, with a sudden fit of intense curiosity about the other man.

Because all he knew about him – all he _really_ knew about him – were the stories. His reputation. And Geoff knew well that stories all too often got things wrong. He remembered what Mark had said the day earlier – that Edgar had told his men about Ryan – and wondered again what their previous encounter had been.

“I noticed a bit of a mess in the kitchen this morning,” Ryan continued – still, it seemed, preoccupied with Gavin, and Geoff nodded again.

“His motto seems to be 'drink to forget' right now,” he said. “We talked him out of it last night. Don't worry, I'll keep an eye on him.”

Ryan nodded, and they fell into silence again – which only left space for Geoff's thoughts to wander further.

“Hey,” he said, and Ryan turned to him. “How're you gonna kill him?”

“Who? Mark?” Ryan asked, but Geoff shook his head.

“No. Edgar. Let's say everything goes exactly as we plan it. We have him helpless, cornered. How will you kill him? Quickly? Get it over with? Or will you draw it out?” It was a roundabout way of asking exactly how much he hated the cow. Whether he was out for torture and vengeance rather than a quick revenge.

Ryan stared at him for a long moment, seeming to search his face for something – and Geoff held his gaze, at least until he had to turn his eyes back to the road.

“I will probably strangle him,” Ryan replied, after a moment, and surprisingly casually. “Choke the life out of him with my bare hands. Just like he did to me.”

“Just like he did to you?!” Geoff asked, confused, and looked back at him to find Ryan meeting him with a cold, blank stare, the dark contours of his skull mask suddenly almost hellish.

“Yes,” Ryan intoned deeply. “He killed me. Three years ago. But I came back for revenge. That's what this is all about. I can't rest until the man who murdered me is dead.”

“What the actual fuck, Ryan,” Geoff snapped – almost believing it for a heart-stopping moment – but then Ryan broke down laughing.

“Jesus Christ,” Geoff said, and clapped a hand to his heart. “Fucking had me going for a second there.”

“I can't believe you fell for that,” Ryan sniggered – and maybe it was the fact that he was laughing more than Geoff had ever seen him before, but he couldn't help but smile himself.

“Only because you're the creepiest person to ever exist. It seemed fucking plausible with _you_. Wouldn't have believed anyone else. You're an asshole, you know that?” He shook his head. “Please pull that same trick on Michael and Ray, I want to see the looks on their faces.”

“I will when I find the right time,” Ryan said, and leaned back in his chair, one hand resting on his stomach. “Holy shit that was funny. I don't think Michael will believe me, though, I...” He trailed off, almost hesitantly, then added, “Told him a bit about why I'm after Edgar, so. He knows.”

“Oh.” Suddenly Geoff felt inexplicably almost hurt that _Michael_ knew when he himself was left out. He brushed it off quickly.

“You believe in ghosts, then?” Ryan asked.

Geoff shook his head. “Nah, not really. You had me doubting that for a minute, though. Why? Do you?”

Ryan shook his head too. “No,” he said – then added, almost too quietly to hear, “Only the ones that come when you sleep.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Did you guys fuck?” Geoff asked, cheerfully, as Michael and Ray emerged from the stable to meet them.

Michael rolled his eyes. “No, of course not. Mark was _right there_.”

“So if he wasn't, you would've?” Geoff asked, and Michael shoved at him.

“Shut the fuck up, why are you so concerned about it?”

“Because I care about the lives of my employees!”

“Because you're a fucking nosy asshole, that's why. We're not gonna bang as soon as you leave us alone for a minute, Jesus Christ. Good morning, Ryan,” he added, and Ryan gave an amused wave.

“Right back to it, then?” he asked, and Michael nodded.

“I'll head back to the flat,” Ray said – with an almost hesitant sort of unease that had Geoff concerned. He knew Ray had left yesterday because he didn't want to watch, and while he obviously wasn't as shaken up over it as Gavin had been, it still worried him to see the younger man rattled.

Michael nodded, reaching out and squeezing his shoulder before he headed back to the car.

Mark looked far worse today than he had yesterday; the blood had congealed around his wounds dark, almost black, and he looked pale and sickly.

As soon as they entered the stable Ryan's entire demeanour seemed to shift; he turned colder, harder. Not towards them, though – when he asked Michael to fetch something for him or Geoff to help him out, his voice was stern but not unfriendly.

Day two was somehow worse than day one. There had been a (horrible, horrible) sort of novelty to it the first time, but now it just felt like they were pushing and pushing, trying to find deeper and deeper levels of pain to inflict upon the sniper.

And still he did not talk.

“What the fuck is up with this guy,” Michael whispered to Geoff as they stood aside and watched Ryan do... whatever it was he was doing, it involved rope and did not look pleasant. “He should have spilled by now. He _knows_ Edgar's not coming for him.”

“Maybe Edgar has some sort of precaution in place,” Geoff mused. “Eyes on his family or friends or whatnot.” He realised, then, what Ryan meant about caring about people being a liability – it did give your enemies some leverage to threaten you with.

As the hours wore on, they all got tired, more miserable – tension building up in the room. Mark was barely responding to them anymore, not even screaming by this point – and if they didn't get something out of him soon, Geoff was pretty sure he'd pass out or die on them, and then this whole endeavour would be for nothing.

Finally Ryan gave a heavy sigh.

“Okay, fine,” he said. “I did not want to do this but you leave me no choice. Michael, in the trunk of my car there's a saw.”

Even Michael hesitated at that, exchanging a glance with Geoff.

“A saw,” he repeated.

Ryan nodded – and there was something about his cold blank stare as he looked impassively down at Mark that sent chills down Geoff's spine. “He's not walking out of here, so he doesn't really need arms or legs, does he?”

“Oh Jesus Christ,” Michael murmured, under his breath – letting his unease show for the first time. But after a moment, he moved to obey, walking stiffly outside.

“Ryan,” Geoff said then, and jerked his head towards the door. Ryan followed him out.

“Did you see his face?” Ryan asked. “He's afraid.”

“Yeah, you're threatening him with fucking quadruple amputation,” Michael replied, heading up to them with saw in hand.

“He'll crack,” Ryan said, confidently. “But I'll need you to hold him down.”

It was interesting, Geoff realised vaguely, how this entire time Ryan had addressed most of his commands to Michael rather than to Geoff. But it only took a moment's thought to work out why – even if Ryan was overseeing the torture, Geoff was the lord of Achievement City. Keeping him aloof and out of the dirty business was a way of making him seem more in charge. _Clever bastard._

Michael swallowed – and Ryan reached out, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“You okay with this?” he asked, seriously – and Michael stared up at him for a moment. Then he nodded.

“Yeah. Not going to bitch out now.”

“He'll spill pretty quickly,” Ryan assured them, and they headed back inside.

He was right, of course.

It was plain to see that Mark Nutt was terrified; breathing harshly through his nose and starting to struggle and thrash for the first time as Michael moved to hold him down, pushing one leg out in front of him.

Ryan raised the saw, and Mark held out until just as the blade began to cut into his leg before he croaked out: “Okay! Okay.”

But Ryan did not stop, keeping his eyes intently fixed on the other as he began to saw, slowly – and the words tumbled from Mark's mouth then, tripping over each other in his haste.

“I only know a couple things, Edgar moves all the time and we only get told what we need to know. There's an abandoned fairground off the highway north of here, near the cliffs – down near the old lighthouse. That's where Ducky's probably going – she stashes a lot of ordnance there- _ahh_ -!”

He broke off with a shrill cry as the blade cut deeper – then nearly sobbed in relief as Ryan yanked it free, blood pouring from his leg.

“That's all?” Ryan demanded. “That's the only hideout you know of?”

“Yes! It is, I swear."

“I don't believe you.”

“ _I swear_.”

That seemed to satisfy Ryan. He rose, dropping the saw, Mark's eyes tracking his every movement – but he simply pulled the gun from his belt and then shot the sniper in the head.

After all they'd put him through the last two days, it seemed almost anticlimactic to watch him crumple instantly to the ground.

“You think he was lying?” Geoff asked, finally – couldn't help but doubt – but Ryan shook his head.

“No,” he replied. “I can tell. And that location sounds familiar – I think I might have run across mention of it when we were looking through Clarence's shit to find Gavin.”

For a moment the three of them stood, staring down at the body in its spreading pool of blood.

“Okay?” Ryan was addressing Michael, and Geoff turned to him – he was looking at the corpse in a slightly dazed manner, swallowing sporadically.

“Yeah,” Michael replied, gruffly – almost defensively, and Ryan held his gaze.

“It's alright,” he said slowly, “Not to like it. God knows I don't.”

“You're good at it, though,” Michael pointed out, almost without thinking about it – and then looked a little horrified by what he had just said.

Ryan didn't seem to have taken offence, though his shoulders were very stiff. “I might be good at it. But I don't like it. I don't take joy out of killing people. Out of _hurting_ people. Satisfaction, yes, sometimes. Depending on who they are. But I did not find this _fun_. And it doesn't make you weak,” he added, turning to look down at the body again, “That you did not want to hurt him. No more than it makes Ray weak, or Gavin.”

He looked at Geoff then. “There is a misconception in our business that brutality is strength. It's not. If you can get what you want without killing or hurting people – _that_ is skill. Cleverness, cunning – I'll take it any day over brute force.”

“He's right,” Geoff replied, quietly.

Michael's shoulders slumped a little, almost relieved.

“He tried to kill us,” he said then. “I don't feel fucking _sorry_ for him.”

“Nor I. He chose to work for Edgar.” Ryan bent and closed Mark's eyes. “But you're allowed to be shaken up by it.”

The care he was taking to make Michael felt better was as reassuring to Geoff as it was to the younger man. Especially after having watched almost twelve hours of Ryan torturing somebody.

“We have our location now,” he said. “Do you want to go back and let the others know? Michael and I can dispose of the body.”

Ryan nodded. “Sounds like a plan. Meet us back at the flat.” He paused. “I'm worried Edgar will have worked out where we are by now. We need to move on tonight. Start heading out there, stay on the move even if we're still forming a plan.”

Geoff nodded. “Yeah, you're right – better to be cautious.”

Ryan walked out, leaving the two of them to deal with the body. They continued to stand in silence for a moment. Michael's uncharacteristic quietness was worrying, and when Geoff reached out and squeezed his shoulder, he jumped.

“Hey. You sure you're okay?”

Michael glanced up at him, and forced a somewhat bitter smile.

“Last night,” he said. “When Ray was over here... he wasn't _angry_ at me or anything, but I could tell he didn't like what was going on. He was uncomfortable with it. And that sort of made me feel like a terrible person. God knows I'll admit I'm an asshole, but I'm not... I didn't think I was _cruel_.”

“You heard what Ryan said,” Geoff said. “And if anyone would know it'd be him. You're not cruel, Michael. Look how much you care for Ray. And what you did for _Gavin_ , back at the Corpirate's... the way you care about him too.”

“Yeah,” Michael said. “I guess so.”

After a minute he grinned at Geoff – something almost hysterically relieved in it – and Geoff grinned back.

“Well then,” Michael said, clapping his hands together and looking down at the body with much less worry this time. “Better deal with this shit then.”

 

* * *

 

 

Gavin was downward spiralling at the speed of bloody light.

He felt sick. Like something terrible was about to happen, a horrible sense of impending danger that he _knew_ was irrational – was more likely than not the product of exhaustion and anxiety – but he couldn't quash it down.

And what had happened last night with Geoff really had not helped.

Being on the verge of panic had made him jittery as all hell. Throw in the added bonus of his being tipsy as fuck, and his reactions had been all over the place.

He had not expected, when Geoff touched him, to feel a spark, deep and low in his belly. Not quite arousal, but something close to it – a nervous sort of excitement that he hadn't felt in a long time. And it was that which was now leaving him frustrated and _confused_ , hating how all over the place he was.

_Fuck_ , he thought, dreading to even consider what it might mean.  _Fuck, fuck – Geoff and Jack are together, don't you even fucking go there you smegpot._

Jack had been keeping a close eye on him all day, lurking in every room he went to, and it was starting to get to him – frustration building up and up until he wasn't sure what to do with himself. At least when Ray returned, later that morning, Jack had been somewhat more distracted – but Gavin still hadn't been able to get even a moment to himself.

It was only now, when Jack and Ray left the apartment to grab some supplies – having just received a call from Ryan that they were going to be on the road tonight – that he finally felt like he could breathe again without the Bearded Wonder hovering over his shoulder every second of the day.

He made his way straight to the kitchen and grabbed a beer from Ryan's stash, leaning against the counter and drinking it slowly – closing his eyes as he let the alcohol leach the tension from his body and mind alike.

He finished the beer and bent to the cupboard again, grabbing a bottle of whiskey this time and reaching up to another cupboard to get a glass.

The sound of the apartment door opening made him jump. For a moment he started, guiltily – then a swaying anger took him over. _So what if Geoff doesn't want me to drink. He's not my father. He's not in_ charge _of me_. Resolutely ignoring the fact that technically, Geoff had employed him and he was drinking during work hours.

He looked up, expecting it to be Jack who marched into the room – then froze as Ryan walked in instead. The other man's eyes zeroed in on the bottle in his hand. Gavin lifted his chin defiantly.

“I see I've interrupted your solo drinking session,” Ryan intoned.

“Yes,” Gavin replied tersely, “You have.”

Ryan took a step closer to him. There was something very stern in his voice when he said, “Put it down.”

Gavin licked his lips nervously. He realised abruptly that Ryan was covered in blood – it was spattered over the front of his jacket and mask. He'd wiped it from his hands but Gavin could see the marks of it there, smeared red traces between his fingers. Darker clots under his nails. He could _smell_ it on him.

Nervousness built up again, his stomach churning.

“No,” he replied, trying to sound braver than he felt. “I've bloody _earned_ it, haven't I? Done more shit for Geoff than I ever signed up for. If I... if I need to _distract_ myself, that's my call.”

“And that's my alcohol,” Ryan pointed out. “Distracting yourself? This is what this is all about?”

Gavin didn't like the way Ryan was looking at him; the quiet disapproval that seemed to be emanating from him made him unexpectedly annoyed. Mostly, though he barely wanted to admit it to himself, because he _cared_ what the other man thought of him. Because he feared that the other's concerns may not be misplaced.

“Take your mask off,” he demanded, the words bursting out before he could stop them.

Ryan went very still.

“...what?”

“I don't want to talk to you with it on,” Gavin said. He waved a hand around the empty apartment. “Jack and Ray are out. I've already seen you without it. I don't want...” he took a deep, shaky breath. “I don't want to talk to you while you're covering your face the way Edgar makes all his men cover their faces.”

For a moment he thought Ryan was going to hit him. The other man loomed up over him, going cold and silent for a moment, but Gavin held his ground. Courage – or maybe stupidity – fuelled by bevs, he stared up at him challengingly.

And then, to his surprise, Ryan reached up and pulled his mask off, letting it drop to the floor beside him.

He looked tired – that was the first thing Gavin noticed. As tired as Gavin himself felt.

But there was something just as challenging in his gaze as he leaned forward, getting in Gavin's space.

“There,” he said – voice low, deep, “Are you happy now?”

“Ecstatic,” Gavin replied. “Still not going to stop me though.” He turned back to the counter, uncapping the whiskey bottle and making to pour it, his hand shaking a little.

Ryan's fingers closed around his wrist, pulling it back and making liquor spill out over the counter.

“There are other ways to distract yourself,” he said – and Gavin turned to find him closer than before, staring at him with those intense blue eyes. His breath caught a little, and for a moment he felt nothing but _angry –_ furious that they were treating him like a child. Frustrated in himself for his inability to _just get over it_.

“Like what?” he demanded – and in that confused cocktail of feelings, he had no idea why he did what he did next. “Like _this_?”

He grabbed the front of Ryan's jacket and yanked him forward, smashing their lips together.

Ryan let out a soft, surprised noise – genuinely shocked for a moment as he went rigid and frozen – and all Gavin could think was _what the actual fuck am I doing_. Maybe it was because he was angry. Maybe because he couldn't stop thinking of that low thrill when Geoff touched him.

Maybe because he needed to feel _something_ other than Edgar's cold phantom hands on his stomach and throat.

Then, like a switch had flipped, Ryan jolted into action, and suddenly he was kissing back – hard, hands coming up to grab Gavin's face and roughly manoeuvre him into a better position. He took control quickly, backing him up until the small of his back hit the counter – Gavin gave as good as he got, fisting his hands more tightly in the front of Ryan's shirt; tugging roughly at his bottom lip with his teeth until Ryan leaned in more, pressing his weight against him, deepening the kiss.

He had wanted a distraction – and he'd gotten one; everything fled from his mind except for _Ryan, Ryan_ – his calloused fingers pressing roughly against Gavin's jaw, the faint whiff of his aftershave under the smell of sweat, leather and blood – his chapped lips – the pressure of his strength holding Gavin down-

And his touch, which seemed to leave a blazing, burning trail against Gavin's skin as he moved his hand to the back of his neck – then shifted his grip down to his waist, hoisting him up easily to sit on the counter.

“R-Ryan,” he choked out, when they finally pulled apart long enough for him to draw breath. The other man pushed between his legs, one hand coming to rest on Gavin's hip as he leaned in to press their lips together again. Gavin's hand came up to tangle in the other's hair – his heart was slamming in his chest, mind empty of everything but the _sensations_ -

And then Ryan's hand started creeping up under his shirt, fingers brushing over the scars – and Gavin jolted backwards, reality slamming back into him of a sudden.

_What am I doing?!_

_What the bloody buggering_ fuck  _am I doing?!_

“Ryan... Ryan, stop.” He pushed at the other's shoulders and Ryan broke away from him immediately, withdrawing his hands and taking a step back.

Gavin stared up at him, trying to catch his breath. His mind was awhirl and he couldn't – he couldn't tell what Ryan was thinking, despite the mask being off. And it should have been easy. They were both breathing heavily, both looked _wrecked_ , clothes and hair askew, lips swollen. But somehow Gavin couldn't fit the pieces together – all he knew was that his heart was slamming in his chest, so fast he nearly felt sick – that his skin seemed to be tingling everywhere Ryan's hands had been.

And that he couldn't _do this_ , not here, not now – that somehow it would be a big mistake to let things go further with the other man when he had no idea what either of them felt.

Because he wasn't sure himself – wasn't sure that if they slept together he could leave it at that, leave it at a one night stand. Because even now he felt something like a pull – an attraction strong enough that it scared him, _Jesus Christ this was a mistake_ -

(And he had kissed Dan, once, or tried to – drunk and confused and needing to _forget_ , to feel something other than pain for once, and Dan had stopped him, gently, “No, B, you're not right – you're not thinking right.” And he had loved him for that, for stopping him from doing something he would regret later, because he _adored_ Dan, for saving him that time and for everything else – but it had been the heat of the moment and the heady rush of gratitude that came with owing someone your life.

He owed Ryan his life, but he wasn't _sure_ – wasn't sure if he knew what he was feeling.)

He couldn't act on uncertainties. Not when everything was already so fragile.

“Gavin...” Ryan's gaze on him was piercing, now, his eyes so very, very blue, and Gavin couldn't bring himself to look at him.

“I'm sorry.” He slipped off the counter, frantically pulling at his shirt, trying to straighten it. “I – sorry. I can't do this. I don't know what I was thinking.”

Ryan may have called something after him, but if so, he didn't hear it – couldn't hear anything but his heart pounding in his ears, his face burning as he ducked his head and slipped past the other man, pulling his jacket tighter around him as he fled for the door.

 


	13. Chapter 13

“I need to talk to you,” Ray hissed, snagging Michael's arm as soon as he walked through the door.

Michael glanced at him, looking a bit surprised to be grabbed so roughly. Whatever he saw on Ray's face made him frown – and _shit_ , Ray didn't even know what he must look like at this moment, didn't even know how he was feeling himself.

“What's up, dude?” Michael asked, sounding a bit concerned.

But Geoff was coming in the door now too, glancing at them curiously – and Jack was entering from the other room, Gavin trailing behind him.

“No time for chit-chat,” Ryan growled, striding in from the kitchen.

He'd taken off his jacket, Ray noticed. Straightened his undershirt and put his mask back on. And it had been a shock, walking into the apartment to find Ryan with it off.

He hadn't seen the other's face though, because – and here was the even bigger shock – it was _fucking mashed against Gavin's_.

He'd back-pedalled quickly, because _what the fuck_ – neither of them had seen or heard him come in, and any and all words had died in his throat. He didn't think he could have spoken if he wanted to. And when he went back down to the car to help Jack with the bags of groceries they'd collected, it had only been a few minutes before Gavin came stumbling out, looking like he'd seen a ghost, refusing to talk about what had happened.

Ray didn't know what to think.

All he knew was that his stomach had _dropped_ when he saw the two of them, Ryan looking two seconds away from bending Gavin over the counter then and there – and he had _no fucking idea_ why it felt like there was a lead block sitting cold and heavy in his gut. It wasn't just shock. He felt – almost _disappointed_ , stricken like something had been taken away from him, and he didn't know why-

Didn't _understand_ -

“We got a location out of Nutt,” Ryan continued, slamming a map down on the table and smoothing it out with force. And he might _look_ put together, but there was something tense and agitated to his movements, and Gavin – still lurking close by Jack's side – wouldn't quite meet his gaze.

Ray wondered what had happened after he walked out; why they had obviously reconsidered what they were doing.

Shoving these thoughts aside, he leaned forward to look at the map, trying to focus.

“The lighthouse he was talking about is here,” Ryan said, stabbing a finger at the map. “Up on the cliffs. It's about three days' drive from here; we're not exactly close to the coast. I don't doubt Edgar has realised by now we caught one of his men. He's probably onto us as we speak, so we need to leave immediately.”

“Three days,” Geoff mused, thoughtfully. “We can form a plan on the way.”

“And after that?” Jack asked, quietly. “Where do we go from there?”

“One step at a time,” Ryan said. “Let's focus on bringing the duck down first. Afterwards comes afterwards.”

“All our shit's still packed up here,” Geoff said, “So we can leave right away. We'll only take two cars; the bike's too open to be of any use. Gavin, can you get your computers packed up?”

Gavin nodded, already moving to do so, and Geoff clapped his hands together.

“Great. Any questions, lads?” This directed at Michael and Ray, who both shook their heads.

“In that case, let's get rolling.”

The business of moving all their belongings from the apartment back to the vehicles effectively meant that Ray had no chance to get Michael on his own to tell him what he'd seen. And then, of course, he began to doubt whether he should at all – it seemed a little on the side of gossip, of spreading around shit he had no business being involved in – but he couldn't stop _thinking_ about it.

And part of him – part of him was almost _worried_. Or that's what he told himself, anyway, rationalising that that's why he couldn't get it out of his head.

Because sure, both Ryan and Gavin had looked rather enthusiastic about what they were doing, but there was something very fragile about Gavin lately, something that concerned Ray. And Ryan – he wasn't normally the sort of person anyone would worry about, but Ray could tell he'd been troubled by something since they saved Gavin. That his relationship with all of them was tentative more than anything else – only just starting to reach out and let himself connect properly with them.

And it wasn't his business, sure – but he couldn't help but think that neither of them was exactly in the right mindset to go about, well, banging each other. Especially if they couldn't even look each other in the eyes after just _kissing_.

An hour later they were ready to go. It was a few hours past noon by now, and they were all getting antsy at having lingered in the apartment so long. Apart from taking Gavin, Edgar hadn't made a properly offensive move on them yet, and the anticipation of waiting for one was starting to get to all of them.

They were only taking two cars, and since Jack and Geoff were obviously driving together, that left Ryan in control of the second. Ray and Michael automatically drifted towards him, as they had assumed that they'd want to be split up evenly with three in each – but Gavin hesitated, suddenly glancing at Geoff with just as much awkwardness as he'd looked at Ryan earlier, and okay, what the _fuck_ was going on here?

“Gav?” Michael prompted, looking a little confused. “You coming with us or going with them?”

“I'll come with you,” Gavin said after a second, quietly – Geoff and Jack exchanged a glance that Ray couldn't quite work out, but didn't comment.

And so they set off, heading for the highway leading out of the city towards the coast.

There was a very awkward silence in the car for the first half an hour or so. Ryan focused on his driving, reaching out to switch the radio on after a little while, while Gavin stared resolutely out the window. Michael appeared very confused by this – and even more confused when he seemed to realise that Ray knew what was going on and he didn't.

“What did you want to talk to me about?” he whispered eventually, leaning in, but Ray shook his head, glancing at Ryan, who was staring out the windscreen but undoubtedly listening in.

“Tell you later,” he murmured back, and Michael frowned at him for a moment before shrugging and turning away.

The silence carried on, until finally it seemed to become too much for Michael.

“So the first time we worked with Geoff and Jack,” he announced, out of the blue – everyone turning to look at him, even Ryan's gaze flicking over to meet his eyes in the rear-view mirror – “It was, like... God, it must've been a few years ago now, right Ray?”

Ray nodded. “They weren't as big as they are now. They were still up there, but their position wasn't as solid yet.”

“Yeah. This was B.M. Geoff.”

“B.M.?” Gavin questioned, perking up a bit.

Michael grinned. “ _Before Moustache_. He had more of a beard then. Not as impressive a beard as Jack, though.”

“Right,” Gavin said, and laughed a little. Even Ryan seemed amused.

“Anyway,” Michael continued. “We'd been pulled in 'cause he needed a sniper and an explosives expert, so Burnie referred him to us. And there were maybe five other hired guns on the job too. So we're hitting this big bank, except then that morning Geoff calls to say _the fucking bank is shut_ , there was some fire or break in or something the night before so it's not open today. So there's a big change of plans to hit a nearby store instead, except along the way there's some sort of mix up and Ray and I are the only ones of the mercenaries who actually show up. Everyone else is at the wrong fucking store. So we end up pulling a nine-person heist with just the four of us.” He shook his head, rolling his eyes. “They got a lot more organised after that, I think. But we must've impressed him because they called us in again for their next heist.”

“It's always a big call to decide whether to go on with a change of plans or cancel a hit,” Ryan said then, and Michael nodded.

“Glad it's not one I ever have to make. Wouldn't want to be in charge of something like that.”

“How do you decide what jobs to take, Ryan?” Ray asked. “I've never heard of how people actually get in touch with you to hire you.”

“I keep an ear out and offer my services when it's something that interests me or pays well,” Ryan replied. “People tend to accept. And sometimes there's the rare occasion where someone manages to seek me out.”

“What's the weirdest job you've ever taken?” Michael asked.

It was funny, Ray reflected, just how much more comfortable with Ryan they'd gotten; they probably wouldn't have dared to pry this closely back when they'd first met him.

Ryan frowned, considering.

“Probably going undercover as a gnome,” he said finally, and they all exploded into splutters.

“ _What the fuck_ ,” Michael demanded. “A fucking _gnome_?! Why?!”

Even Gavin was laughing – quietly, one hand up to cover his mouth, but he was at least looking in Ryan's direction now, and Ray got the impression the mercenary was smiling under his mask.

“There was some weird, avant-garde fashion show on, and one of the critics in attendance was my target. He was pretty high-strung, suspicious that someone was going to take him out, so it would have been harder for me to get in as an audience member than as part of the show itself. I shot him down from where I was standing on a mushroom-”

“ _Jesus Christ_.” Michael was laughing so hard there were tears running down his cheeks, and Ray couldn't help but grin at him, barely able to breathe himself.

“How long ago was this?” Gavin asked – and Ryan glanced across at him, hesitating before answering.

“A while ago,” he said. “Before I got more... selective about what jobs I took.”

Gavin nodded, and smiled a bit – and some of the tension in the car diffused, Ray was glad to see. It seemed the two of them had come to some sort of silent agreement to just... move on, to ignore whatever it was that had happened between them in the kitchen. How long that would last was questionable, but for now he was just glad that they were talking again.

 

* * *

 

It was running on midnight when they came across a small motor inn by the side of the road. Up ahead of them, Jack and Geoff began to pull in, so they followed suite, seemingly having decided that it was time to stop for the night.

They booked two rooms, and an unspoken agreement was reached that Ray, Michael and Gavin would take one, and Jack, Geoff and Ryan the other. They ended up in the gents' room, eating a late meal from the groceries they'd brought with them and trying to form a plan.

“We can't assume that we'll have the element of surprise,” Ryan said. “They'll likely be on the lookout for us. They must know the duck and the pig are our next targets.”

“Gavin? Can you get eyes on this place for us?” Geoff asked.

Gavin looked up from where he was sitting on one of the beds, computer on his lap. He shook his head.

“There're no cams around the area. It's pretty old,” he said. “The best I can do is make sure our earpieces stay working while we're in there. What exactly did Mark Nutt say about this place?”

“That the duck stashes ordnance there and will probably head there between jobs,” Ryan replied.

Gavin 'hmm'ed thoughtfully. “I mean, there's no guarantee she'll be there then. If she's not, we could sneak in and _plant_ cameras. But that's a bit of a 'maybe' plan.”

“What we really need is to scout out the area,” Jack said. “Edgar's main one over on us is brute force at the moment. He seems to have recruited every hired gun in the neighbourhood and then some.”

Michael perked up. “In that case we should be hitting his forces. He stashes ordnance there? We blow that shit up. How can he fight us without weapons?”

“That... could work, actually,” Ryan said.

Geoff nodded. “Gavin, see if you can get us something on the actual layout of the fairground, even if it's not a live feed. That'll put us in a better position to plan. In the meantime, everyone get some sleep. Make sure you keep a watch out. We'll reconvene in the morning.”

They nodded, the lads rising to move off to their own room, which was on the other side of the car park. Ray caught Michael's wrist as they departed, leaving Gavin to move on ahead. The two of them paused in the dark shadows of the parking lot.

“Everything alright?” Michael asked, seeming relieved that they were finally going to talk. “You've been acting weird all day.”

Ray nodded, opening his mouth – but the words suddenly stuck in his throat, leaving him to shift his feet awkwardly. “Yeah, I... I saw something.”

“ _Something?”_ Michael demanded. “What's something?”

Ray glanced over his shoulder, suddenly paranoid that Ryan was going to pop out of the door behind him. “Ryan... Ryan and Gavin.”

“What about them?”

“I walked into the kitchen and they were making out. They didn't see me.”

Michael was very, very quiet for a moment. Ray could practically see the cogs turning in his head as he processed this new information.

“Okay,” he said finally. “Okay. Uh.”

“But Gavin, like, came out a few minutes later. I don't think they went anywhere with it, but it sure looked like they were about to when I saw them. And they were awkward around each other in the car at first – you noticed that.”

“Yeah,” Michael said. He ran a hand over his face a few times. “Jesus Christ.”

Ray wasn't quite sure what to make of his reaction. He didn't know what to make of his _own_ – he still had that faintly sick, slightly disappointed feeling, and no idea why.

“I know they kissed at the Corpirate's mansion. I told you that,” Michael said, and Ray nodded. “But that was, like, fucking out of necessity. I mean, I can... I can see why.... I know Ryan's fond of Gavin.”

' _Fond_ ' was not a word that Ray had ever expected to hear in the same sentence as Ryan's name, but he couldn't deny it was true.

“But he's always going on about the danger of making connections with people and what fucking ever,” Michael continued, “So, uh... that's unexpected. And Gavin...” He trailed off, but it didn't really need to be said.

“I know it's none of our business,” Ray said. “But I'm... worried, I guess.”

Michael bit his lip and nodded.

It was then that Ray realised he _didn't like it_. He didn't like that Ryan had been pressing Gavin against the counter or that Gavin's hands had been tangled in Ryan's hair. _But why? Why the fuck should I care, it's not like... ughhh. I don't even fucking know._

“Anyway.” He felt better for at least telling _somebody_ , like it wasn't some huge secret he'd accidentally been privy to and was now carrying around. “I guess we wait and see what happens.”

Michael nodded, though he still looked thoughtful, and Ray fancied there was something possessive in the way his hand curled tightly around Ray's arm to pull him back to their room.

 

* * *

 

The motor inn was a dingy little place, and the room was small, with two single beds against the far wall, a table and chair and a couple of lamps. There was one bathroom leading off the main area, which sported a water-stained carpet and some truly horrific floral wallpaper.

Ray was used to it, though; these were the sort of places they tended to stay in when out on hits. Cheap and unobtrusive.

Gavin was in the bathroom when they got in, and they set about getting changed. And they'd long had no qualms about privacy, they'd lived around each other long enough for that to become fairly obsolete, but now when Ray glanced across at Michael to see him pulling his shirt off over his head he paused to take it in, letting his gaze linger longer than he'd allowed it before.

Michael noticed, of course, and gave him a shit-eating grin. “See something you like, Narvaez?”

“Maybe,” Ray replied, and then stuck out his tongue. “Grow some chest hair you prepubescent.”

“Ouch.” Michael clapped a hand to his heart. “We're right to making personal remarks, are we? Fuck you. In that case you won't get a piece of this baby-smooth chest for a long time.”

“Don't be a crybaby about it, Michael,” Ray grinned, but before Michael could reply there was a rap at the door.

Through the window they could see it was Jack, though what he wanted, Ray had no idea. He moved to the door and opened it, raising a questioning eyebrow.

“Hey. Everything alright?”

“Everything's fine,” Jack replied, peering over Ray's shoulder. Michael waved. “Is Gavin in here?”

“He's in the bathroom, getting changed I think,” Ray said. “Why? Need me to pass on a message?”

In response, Jack handed him a pill bottle. Ray looked at it curiously. The name meant nothing to him but from the label it seemed to be some sort of sleeping aid.

“Ryan said to give that to Gav,” Jack said, dropping his voice a little. Michael had moved up over Ray's shoulder by now to hear what was going on. “He... hasn't been sleeping that well lately.”

“I'll let him know,” Ray said, and Jack nodded, waving them goodnight before heading back across to his own room. Ray shut the door behind him and exchanged glances with Michael.

“Well,” Michael said, and Ray pulled a face.

Despite the fact that he pretty much trusted Ryan with his life now – and God, when had that happened? When had he stopped being wary of the man enough for him to become... well, a _friend_? Someone who looked out for Ray – _taught_ him things, like that lesson with the knife – despite all that, suspicion was still at the forefront of his mind. A lifetime of high-risk jobs ingrained that in you. The pills looked legit enough, but they only had Ryan's word that they were what he said they were.

He dismissed this paranoia instantly, though. Ryan had no reason to try and hurt Gavin – especially given what Ray had just seen.

Although he'd still opted to ask Jack to bring the pills over instead of coming himself – which spoke volumes, really.

At that moment, Gavin emerged from the bathroom.

“Whatcha got there, lads?” he asked, belly-flopping onto the nearest bed.

Ray glanced at Michael again before tossing the pill bottle to Gavin, who squawked, flailed, missed catching it entirely and then had to slide off the bed to pick it up from the floor.

“Present for you from Ryan,” Ray said, carefully.

Gavin snatched up the bottle and looked at it for a long moment. Then said, in a very odd voice, “Ohh.”

He put the bottle on the bedside table and rolled onto his back, seemingly having decided to ignore it. “So you two are sharing a bed or what?”

“I guess?” Michael asked, looking at Ray again, who shrugged – if Gavin didn't want to talk about whatever had happened with Ryan, that was his call. “I mean, one of us should stay on watch anyway.”

“I can stay on watch,” Gavin spoke up. “Don't really think I'll get much sleep anyway.”

“Okay, what the fuck does that mean?” Michael was biting the bullet then, it seemed, never having been one to hold his peace when he was concerned or irritated by something. “Ryan just fucking gave you pills to deal with that shit.”

Gavin bit his lip, looking away. “Yeah, but – I just don't feel like sleeping tonight.”

Michael snorted. “You look tired as fuck-”

“You ever get something stuck in your head?” Gavin interrupted. “Not like a song, like... something you've seen, or done, and it just goes round and round and you don't want to sleep because you feel like you need to... work through it, first. Like if you can play it over often enough it'll be finished and it'll go away. And if you sleep you might dream about it, or you'll wake up and it'll still be there.”

Ray and Michael glanced at one another, and Ray couldn't help giving a slow, reluctant nod.

“Not for a while,” he said. “But I know what you mean.”

Falling into this business had been almost too easy for him, but that didn't mean he hadn't been new at it once too. Your first kill – that was something that stuck in your mind. The first time you saw someone die slowly rather than instantly. The first woman. The first time you killed someone your own age – and God, he'd gotten into it _young_ , Michael had too. They'd seen their share of shit.

Michael nodded as well, but there was a funny look on his face as he turned away.

Gavin seemed relieved he'd dropped the subject, and turned to grab his laptop, seeming intent on doing some work even as he climbed under the covers for warmth.

“You okay?” Ray asked, moving up next to Michael and pulling back the duvet to help him get into bed easier.

Michael hesitated, then met his eyes almost reluctantly. “Just thinking about Mark Nutt,” he admitted, and Ray sucked in a breath.

“Oh, dude,” he said – because that had been _messy_ , he hadn't gotten himself out of there for no reason. And he'd been worried, that night he spent out at the stables with Michael. Worried because they _hadn't_ talked about it – had just tried as hard as possible to ignore the man groaning in pain on the ground behind them. That wasn't something they'd done before. Not something he _ever_ wanted to make a normal part of their routine.

“Ryan... Ryan sort of talked to me about it,” Michael said then, with a wry sort of smile. “Put things in perspective a bit. But I still keep thinking about how far we might have gone – what else we might've done – if he _hadn't_ spilled when he did.” A slightly awkward pause.

“But fuck it,” Michael added, sounding a little embarrassed, “I guess it doesn't matter now.”

“It matters,” Ray replied. “If it's worrying you, it matters.”

“I'm fine,” Michael insisted, tersely. He glanced across the room and Ray followed his gaze just in time to see Gavin turn his head away quickly, obviously having been watching them.

“I'll take first watch,” Ray said then.

Michael nodded. He climbed into bed then patted the space next to him.

“Dude, come in here. I probably won't sleep for a bit anyway, I was napping in the car on the way back to Ryan's place. It's too cold to be sitting out there anyway.”

Ray hesitated, then shrugged, climbing in next to him. The bed was small, small enough that it was a squash for two grown men to fit, and it wasn't particularly comfortable – a thin, hard mattress over an iron frame – but Michael flopped onto him instantly, head falling against his shoulder as Ray wrapped his arms loosely around the other man. It didn't take long for them to settle into a better position, the bed warming with their shared body heat – and for the first time in a long while Ray felt almost _peaceful_. There was something very natural and comfortable about Michael in his arms.

After a while he let his hands fall to Michael's shoulders and started massaging gently, working out the knots and tension both from the stress of recent days and sleeping in strange and uncomfortable positions over the last few days.

Michael let out a soft grunt, but they fell into an easy silence after that. Ray wasn't sure how much time had passed – he half started to doze off, but caught himself, snapping back into alertness and making sure he was keeping an eye on the door and windows, though everything was still and dark outside.

He thought Michael had fallen asleep, so it surprised him when the other man sat up suddenly.

“Whatcha doing over there, Gav?”

Ray looked over to find Gavin sitting, staring vacantly at his computer screen. He looked like he'd been struggling not to sleep himself – like he was on the verge of drifting off but trying desperately to get his eyes to focus on the screen, to keep himself awake.

Sitting alone in his bed, he suddenly seemed very small, very lonely – and abruptly it hit Ray, _maybe that's why_. Maybe it was just a case of the odd ones out pairing up, because now that Ray and Michael were together, and Jack and Geoff were together, the other two were just sort of... floating.

For some terrible, unfathomable reason, the first thought that struck him upon this revelation was _it doesn't have to be that way._

What. The actual. Fuck.

_What does that even mean? Why would I even think that?_ It had hit him out of nowhere, a stupid, stupid thought he was too afraid to even work out for himself, and he shoved it away instantly, feeling almost guilty of a sudden, like he'd stumbled over something forbidden, taboo.

“I'm just pottering on the internets,” Gavin replied, because that made so much sense.

“You working?” Michael asked, sitting up a bit.

“Kind of.” He stifled a yawn, pushing his laptop back. “Not really, ah, getting anywhere.”

And then he looked kind of... lost, again, like he didn't want to sleep but he didn't want to work. Like he didn't want to be sitting alone there but also had nowhere else to go.

The sight tugged at something in Ray, and abruptly he wanted to call the other man over to join them. But he bit his tongue, suddenly realising how Michael might take that the wrong way – there was barely room for the two of them in this bed, after all, and he and Michael had been getting little enough alone time as it was.

But it was Michael who flung back the covers and clambered out, moving to start pushing Gavin's bed over towards theirs.

Gavin squeaked as the bed started sliding across the floor, with a rather alarming grating metal noise. “ _Mi_ -chael! What the bloody hell are you doing?!”

“If we don't shove these beds together one of us is gonna fall out at some point,” Michael said. He jabbed a finger at Ray. “You kick at night, I've seen you. So Gav, come join us in our fucking cuddle pile or whatever. Unless you're not into that shit.”

He glanced at Ray, belatedly asking permission, but Ray just grinned at him – suddenly overcome by a sweeping wave of affection, because Michael might _act_ all gruff on the surface, but it was things like this – his blunt, non-nonsense _sweetness_ – that made Ray realise exactly why he loved him.

_Loved him_. Shit, were they onto that already?

Two in the morning was not the time to be dwelling on that, though. He jumped out of bed and moved to help Michael, Gavin scrambling out as well. Between the three of them they soon had the two beds pushed together to form a double.

“Someone else get in the middle,” Michael ordered, “Because I refuse to lie in the dip.”

“You mean the _crevice_ ,” Gavin replied, instantly.

Michael rolled his eyes. “Everything's fucking anal with you, isn't it? Ray, get in there.”

They all clambered in, Ray in the middle.

“If you guys are both staying up I don't want to be the asshole who's just, like, lying there snoring,” Michael informed them. “So let's just all stay up. Gavin, do you have something we can watch or something on your laptop?”

“Security feeds of the car park outside,” Gavin replied with a grin, and Michael rolled his eyes.

“That'll put me right to sleep.”

“I've got a couple things,” Gavin replied, dragging his laptop to the middle of the bed.

As he lay there, the two of them pressed warm against each side, leaning in to bicker over which old British comedy they were going to watch, Ray couldn't help but smile. With Michael on one side of him, slumped against his side again – Gavin on the other, sitting a little more shyly, stiffly – it felt as though something had been missing before, but everything had now fallen into place, somehow more comfortable, more complete.

 

* * *

 

 

“Move over, Jack,” Geoff grumbled. “Or someone's gonna be kicked out of this bed and it's not gonna be me.”

Ryan rolled his eyes as he rose from where he'd been sitting on the other bed, reassembling his gun. “One of you take this one. I'll be on watch, anyhow.”

Geoff rolled ungracefully out of where he'd been tangled in the duvet with Jack, stumbling to his feet to stare at Ryan with raised eyebrows. “You always take watch. Let one of us do it for once.”

“I'll be fine,” Ryan informed him, a little stiffly.

“One of us can sleep in the car tomorrow,” Jack replied, something like worry in his tone. “You have to drive the whole time, unless you hand over to Michael.”

Ryan just shook his head again. “I'll be _fine_ ,” he repeated, a little more firmly – and saw the glance Jack and Geoff exchanged before they nodded.

He turned away from them, settling into a chair facing the door.

Something uneasy and nervous was brewing in his stomach. It had been there all day, since fucking Gavin had gone and... and...

_What the fuck even_ happened _this morning_?

He'd been riled up from killing Mark Nutt, from the ensuing conversation with Michael. Uncomfortable in his own skin, his own reputation, the way he always felt uncomfortable when people called him the 'mad mercenary' or he had to play into the ideal of a bloodthirsty, creedless killer.

He didn't know why he'd kissed back.

Maybe because he'd needed a distraction as well. Maybe because their kiss back at the Corpirate's mansion was still fresh in his mind, something that rose up on sleepless nights, haunting him with the memory of how it had felt – how it had made his stomach flutter with something that seemed far too innocent and fresh for a man with so much blood on his hands.

And it scared him how far he might have taken it – how far he'd _wanted_ to take it – if Gavin hadn't stopped him.

_Fuck. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck-_

Snapping himself out of it, he reached over to his bag and fished out a book, intent on distracting himself. He was flicking through it, trying to remember where he'd been up to, when murmurs from Jack and Geoff caught his attention. He glanced over to find them sitting in bed together again, faces hunched over Geoff's phone.

“What are you doing?” he asked, and their heads snapped up almost guiltily. It made him suspicious enough that he rose from the chair and wandered over to see.

“What's that?” he asked, frowning – it was a message from one of Geoff's contacts back in Achievement City. The message was full of coordinates, place names – they didn't sound American – even a couple of attached satellite images.

“You trying to track someone down?” Ryan demanded, and Geoff shook his head.

“No,” he said. “Well, sort of. You know Gavin's friend? Gruchy?”

Ryan nodded. Jack had filled him in on what Burnie had told them about Gavin's last mission, even if he still didn't know the full story.

“We're just keeping tabs on him,” Geoff replied. “Looking into him to try and find out what job he's working on.”

“Why?” Ryan asked with a frown. “What for?”

Geoff hesitated for a second, then said, quietly, “Gavin cares about him. We wanted to make sure he was okay. And... see if we could maybe get in touch with him. If Gavin hasn't contacted him so far it must be because he doesn't know where he is. So we're trying to find him. For Gav.”

That was... unexpectedly sweet, and a ridiculously caring gesture. Ryan nodded.

“It's funny,” he said, moving back to his chair. “I know most mercs around here, but I've never heard of that guy.”

“He mostly works in the UK,” Geoff replied distractedly, poring over his phone again. “I think that job he took with Gav was the first he did over here. Must've put him right off because he went straight back home again,” he added with a scoff. “Can't find much on who he actually is, though. Ex-military, that's about all we know.”

Ryan frowned a bit.

Geoff and Jack weren't just looking for Dan, they were trying to poke into his past – presumably Gavin's past as well, though they weren't telling him that – how long would it be before they started trying to find out more about _Ryan_?

Shooting them a suspicious look, he turned back to his book, finally finding his page again. He could feel eyes on him though, and he ignored them for a time, until it ultimately became too much and he looked up to see Jack staring at him.

“What are you reading?” Jack asked, then.

Ryan tilted it so he could see the cover. Jack's eyebrows rose.

“John Le Carré? Isn't it weird for you to read spy novels given your job?”

“It is amusing,” Ryan replied mildly, “The same way I imagine it's amusing for doctors to watch medical dramas, or detectives police procedurals. In any case, this isn't really a James Bond novel. It's more...” he trailed off, but Jack looked genuinely interested, so he pressed on. “It's darker. Tells it how it is or whatever. Our jobs are never as glamorous as TV makes them seem, after all.”

Jack snorted. “You can say that again. _The Spy Who Came In From the Cold_ ,” he mused again, still studying the title – and something nervous and awkward crept down Ryan's spine.

Jack didn't comment further though, just 'hmmm'ed and turned back to Geoff.

 

* * *

 

This was terrible.

Ryan was horrified to find that when Jack and Geoff eventually drifted off to sleep, he almost _missed_ their company. They hadn't even been fucking _talking_ , but knowing they were there and awake had been – reassuring, somehow.

Morning rolled around slowly; a grey, chilly dawn, dark clouds hanging over the horizon with the promise of yet more rain. Ryan woke Jack and Geoff before venturing across the car park to knock on the lads' door.

Ray answered instantly. He looked exhausted, dark circles under his eyes like he hadn't slept at all, and Ryan raised his eyebrows.

“You keep watch all night?”

Ray shook his head, huffing out a laugh. “We kind of... all took watch, if that makes sense. Stayed up most of the night watching shit because none of us really felt like sleeping. We'll nap in the car if we need to.”

Ryan frowned a little. “Gav didn't take those pills I gave him?”

“Nah, he said he didn't feel like sleeping.”

Ryan nodded. It was understandable, even if he felt a little rejected – they were pills he took himself when his insomnia got to the point where it started to affect his work performance. But Gavin was a grown man and things were probably best left to his own discretion. Even if Ryan disapproved of his coping mechanisms, it wasn't his place to push.

“Be ready to leave in twenty, will you? We'll eat on the go.”

Ray nodded.

“Ryan!” he called out, as the other turned to go.

Ryan glanced back over his shoulder. “What?”

Ray grinned at him, widely. “Good morning.”

Ryan rolled his eyes, but couldn't help but smile back. “Good morning to you too. Now go get the others up.”

 

* * *

 

The awkward silence didn't last too long this time. Gavin seemed a little strained when Ryan greeted him at the car, but he was quickly distracted by Michael, raving over whatever they had been watching last night – some old show or another. All three of the younger men looked exhausted, but Gavin seemed happier than Ryan had seen him in a bit, which was something.

By now they had long left the city behind and were driving through great expanses of country land, passing the occasional farm or vineyard. The radio out here was nothing but static but they quickly occupied themselves with conversation.

As they all knew many of the same people – mercenaries, consultants, petty criminals and all manner of hired skills they'd worked with before – they found themselves playing a version of celebrity heads, taking turns asking questions to guess which of their mutual acquaintances they were thinking of. This quickly became an excuse to make personal and often offensive remarks about other people.

“Are they ugly?” Gavin asked.

Michael, who had thought of the person they were trying to guess, shook his head.

“Nah, man.”

“On a scale of one to ten how do you rate their attractiveness?” Ray asked.

“Hmm, 9.5 I guess. Marginal room for improvement.”

“Do they mainly work in small guns?” Ryan asked. He wasn't sure how he'd ended up pulled into this game, but there was no denying it was... nice, having friendly conversation with other people. Having _fun_. It was something he hadn't realised he'd missed so much working alone.

“Nope.”

“Do they have a beard?” Ray asked.

“No again.”

“Do they have a big nob?” Gavin asked, and Ray face palmed.

“Yes,” Michael said, and grinned. “A _huge_ one.”

“So you've seen their dick then?” Ryan asked, and Michael nodded.

“Is it me?” Ray asked. Michael burst out laughing.

“Ahahahaha. _No_. You have a beard, idiot. Well, sort of.”

“Have you seen Ray's nob then, Michael?” Gavin asked, and Michael pulled a face at him.

“We've been roommates for years, of course I've seen his business.”

“And what do you rate it? On a scale of one to ten?” Gavin asked. Ray threw an empty coke can at him, drawing a yelp.

“You're a piece of shit, Vav,” he huffed, and Gavin grinned at him, tossing the can back.

“I'll get back to you,” Michael said, “Once I've seen it in closer detail-”

“Too much fucking information,” Ryan informed him then, rolling his eyes. “I've guessed it, anyway. It's yourself, right?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Michael said smugly, leaning back and folding his arms. “It was me! Ryan wins that round.”

“You're stupid,” Ray informed him, and Michael grinned, shifting over in his seat to elbow him.

“Your _face_ is stupid.”

“Settle down children,” Ryan said, though he couldn't help the amusement leaking into his tone. He glanced across and accidentally caught Gavin's eye. Gavin's smile faltered a little, but he seemed determined not to make things awkward again, and held Ryan's gaze until Michael spoke up again, drawing his attention.

“Ryan, how big is your dick?”

“Eighteen inches and barbed,” Ryan replied instantly.

Ray choked on the water he was drinking.

“Like a cat,” was Gavin's valuable contribution to the conversation.

“And we all know how much Gavin loves cats,” Michael said, seemingly without really thinking about it, because Gavin froze – Ryan did too – thinking about each other's dicks was sort of _really not what they needed right now_ – not after what had happened the day before – and for a moment he feared things would go back to being awkward and stilted.

But Ray, thank God, quickly diverted the conversation by announcing he'd thought of someone else for them to guess, and Gavin was promptly distracted.

Ryan let out a discreet breath.

There was no way they could ignore what had happened, he knew. They could damn well try – but it wouldn't be long before they were left alone together. They would end up talking about it eventually.

But what was there to say?

That it hadn't just been about... about sex, or about finding random comfort in another warm body. It had been _Gavin_ , the entire time – Gavin's bony shoulders his hands had closed around, Gavin's scruffy beard scraping against his own stubble. Gavin's stupid nose pressing hard against Ryan's cheek as they kissed.

Ryan wasn't stupid. He was self aware enough to know what it all meant.

That didn't mean he had to acknowledge it.

Beside him, Gavin laughed, in fits over something Ray had said that Ryan had missed – he was rocking back in his seat, hands clasped in front of him, letting out those squeaky, croaky giggles that _holy shit Ryan should not find_ endearing _._

His grip tightened on the steering wheel. _You're in it fucking deep, Haywood._ And God, he felt like he was falling, and not in a good way, like he was plummeting into some sort of fucking bottomless pit and there was nothing he could do about it.

And at heart he was... afraid, or something close to it.

It was easier to watch the others than to dwell on his own feelings, and he frowned a little, behind the mask, as he watched Michael lean forward to mess with the headrest of Gavin's seat.

There was something excitable about the three of them today; possibly hysteria setting in from sleep deprivation.

_So Gavin didn't want to sleep... and all three of them ended up staying awake all night?_

There was something almost giddy in the way Michael and Ray were teasing Gavin. And they'd quickly become friends, he knew – even if Michael a little more belatedly – but something about the affection in the way they were looking at him, the way there was something almost flustered in Gavin's answering smiles...

_It's nothing,_ Ryan thought, shaking it off – _there's no way – it can't be._

He was projecting, he realised – but that was even _worse,_ somehow, and he quickly pushed all thoughts related to this topic to the back of his mind, concentrating on driving.

 

* * *

 

At length they reached a pit stop, full of dairy tankers and livestock transport trucks. It was little more than a gas station attached to a toilet and shower block and a small burger restaurant, but they pulled in to refresh and refuel.

The lads went off to the bathroom while Ryan went to fill up the petrol tank. He was engrossed in what he was doing, but still alert enough to notice when Michael came back before the other two, even when the other stood silently by the side of the car, staring at him thoughtfully.

“I'd ask if there was something on my face, but you can't really see it,” Ryan said finally, detaching the gas pump and glancing at the screen to read the total.

Michael shifted, and Ryan turned to him. The other man was frowning a little, and Ryan suddenly felt uneasy, wondering what this all was about.

“Ray saw you kissing Gavin.” It came out a little too fast, blurted out like a secret, and Ryan froze.

His heart stopped for a moment, stuttering nervously – but he was a grown man, and he quickly kicked himself for such an asinine reaction.

“Yes,” he said, keeping his tone carefully measured. “But what happened between Gavin and myself is none of your concern – unless Gavin himself has been talking to you about it.” The possibility of that struck him even as he said it, but Michael was already shaking his head.

“He hasn't,” Michael replied. “But... I just... I don't _get it_. Back at the Corpirate's, you and I talked about this – you don't.... you keep insisting you don't... ugh.”

Being lost for words was obviously something very foreign to Michael, and Ryan could see him growing frustrated at himself for his inability to put whatever he was thinking into words.

And there was an odd, pinched look to Michael's face, he noticed – like he was _unhappy_ about what he'd seen, but didn't quite seem to know why. Something almost confused.

_That makes two of us_ , Ryan thought grimly.

“You kissed him back,” Michael settled on, finally. “You were... into it. Ray said.”

“Glad to know he took in the details while he was spying on us.” And Ryan's voice was stiff now, despite how casual he tried to make it sound. He knew Michael could tell he was growing uncomfortable – kicked himself for letting his reactions become so obvious – but _holy hell_ did he not want to talk about this right now.

“You _kissed him back_ ,” Michael insisted. “Why? What were you doing?”

“What does it matter to you?” Ryan snapped. “If you're _worried_ about him, you don't need to be. I didn't do anything he didn't want or initiate.”

Michael was scowling at him now. “God you're an asshole. I'm just... interested, Jesus Christ. You say you don't care about any of us but then you go and-”

“Fine,” Ryan ground out – and his heart was slamming in his chest now, and he hated it – _hated it_ – but he couldn't stop the words falling from his mouth. “I fucking lied, okay? I care about you. I care about Gavin.”

“Don't fucking say shit like that if you don't mean it.”

_I do mean it. God help me, I do mean it_. That part wouldn't come out though – he couldn't choke it out past the lump in his throat and his dry as sand tongue – all he could do was turn on his heel and stride towards the gas station to pay.

This was not what he needed.

It had been bad enough dealing with this when it was just between he and Gavin. Ray and Michael getting involved... fucking hell, as if he didn't have enough shit on his plate already.

Something about the way Michael had questioned him was getting to him – in the heat of the moment he'd assumed it had been about _Gavin_ , that Michael was just playing the protective friend – but the more Ryan thought about it, as he paid for the gas and spent a little time dithering in the shop, loathe to go back just yet, the more he realised that the other man had been very focused on what _Ryan_ was feeling.

And not just for Gavin. For all of them.

Letting out a low groan, he reached up to rub his eyes under the mask.

The thought that he'd just upset Michael was getting to him more than he should – and it only intensified when he walked back out to the car and Michael barely spared him a slightly annoyed glance before turning back to Gavin and Ray.

_Don't say shit like that if you don't mean it_.

The only reason Michael would care about that would be if he himself was invested. And God, Ryan knew that Jack liked him – knew that Ray did too, and Gavin. Michael he hadn't been as sure about, but it was becoming increasingly apparent now that he did. That he considered him not just a friend but someone worthy of his _concern_ – and Ryan had learned enough about him over the last couple of weeks to realise that that was not a privilege the other man bestowed lightly.

Again, that lurching sick feeling of falling into something he couldn't control overcame him, left him jittery in a way he really did not like.

“Ryan?” Gavin asked quietly – and he realised then, that the others had fallen silent – that they'd driven farther out than he'd thought as he was lost in thought, and Michael and Ray were now dozing off in the back seat, looking stupidly young where they were draped over each other, limp in sleep, Michael's mouth hanging open a little, Ray's glasses askew.

“Yeah?” he replied.

“Is everything okay?” Gavin kept his gaze fixed straight forward, out the windscreen as he asked, and Ryan followed suite.

“Everything's fine,” Ryan replied, and saw Gavin's eyes dart towards him for the briefest flicker of a second.

Even with his mask on he felt like Gavin could tell he was lying, but the other didn't push.

 

* * *

 

 

“This is the layout of the fair,” Gavin said, pushing his laptop to the middle of the table so they could all see.

They had reached another motor inn – somehow even smaller and dingier than the last one – and were again crowded in one of the two rooms they'd bought, huddled around the computer screen looking at the crude map.

“I don't know how much of this is intact. This is from when it was still in operation,” Gavin replied.

Geoff nodded. “Are those storage sheds there? That would be the most likely place to keep ordnance. They're built to keep weather out.”

Michael nodded agreement. “Yeah – those look fairly central too. Easy to guard.”

“Mark Nutt didn't say anything about how many people we'd expect there,” Ryan mused. “But if this is a main storage centre they're likely to have regular guards.”

“Michael? What's the best way to blow this shit up?” Geoff asked. Gavin helpfully pulled up a couple of photos of the storage sheds in question, and Michael peered at them thoughtfully for a few moments.

“Edgar's surprised us enough so far that I wouldn't feel at all fucking safe setting something with a timer,” he said. “In case something goes to shit and we can't get out in time. So something I can detonate remotely. I have the parts we need but we're probably much better off trying to sneak in and plant them without being seen. Fucking stealth operation or whatever.”

“I agree,” Ryan said. “Take out the ordnance then take out the duck. Stay hidden as much as possible. We should split up. Jack and Ray can find some cover and snipe. I'll go in to cover Michael. Geoff, you coordinate everybody.”

“What about Gavin?” Ray asked.

Ryan glanced at Gavin, who was fiddling nervously with the strings of his hoodie, but stepped back to let Geoff deal with it.

“Gav?” Geoff said. “It's your choice if you want to come in with us, or stay behind with the cars, or even stay back here at the motor inn. I can't promise any of those options will be safe. I _can_ promise that if you come with us I'll do everything possible to protect you.”

“I'll come in with you all,” Gavin said.

“Good.” Geoff shot a thumbs up around at them all. “Get some rest then, boys. We should hit there by tomorrow. We'll pull up over by the cliffs and work out the best way to approach.”

The lads drifted out, heading to their own room, and once again they moved to settle down for the night. All of them were tired, restless after so long spent on the road. Exhaustion was pulling at Ryan's limbs, but he still moved to drag his chair up to the door.

Geoff's hand on his arm stopped him.

“You're not keeping watch again tonight,” he said – _ordered_ , really. “You need to sleep.”

“I'm good-”

“If you're driving tomorrow, you _need_ to sleep,” Geoff insisted. And then forcibly wrenched the chair away from Ryan, who tensed briefly in annoyance before registering the genuine concern on Geoff's face.

His irritation deflated as quickly as it had come. _Fuck_. So that's what it was like to be _cared_ about.

Sighing, he turned away, pulling off his jacket and kicking his shoes off. He kept his back turned to the others until he was ready to get into bed; by that point Geoff had settled into the chair and Jack the other bed.

It was always uncomfortable lying down with the mask on, and he felt, abruptly, very self conscious at even trying to sleep while the others were still awake in the same room. He rummaged for his book again, hoping it would help him doze off.

“Hey Ryan,” Jack spoke up after a bit, when it became apparent none of them were sleeping just yet. “Can I ask you something?”

That was never a good sign, but Ryan sighed and lowered his book anyway. “Speak, demand, I'll answer.”

“What did Edgar do to make you hate him so much?”

Ryan froze.

It wasn't the first time he'd been asked since this whole thing had started – but it was the first time _Jack_ had asked, and so directly too. And God help him, but he likedthe other man – _trusted_ him. Didn't at all want to lie to him, or snap at him to get him to leave well enough alone.

Michael and Gavin already knew the gist of it. Surely one more person couldn't hurt.

“I told you already. I've seen him do this before – set his sights on someone's territory and do whatever he needs to do to blow their house down. And I happened to get in his way.” He let out a huff of breath.

Unfortunately he'd let the most important rule of keeping secrets slip his mind: let out one sliver of information and people started pushing for more.

And Jack – Jack was more perceptive than he'd given him credit for, because he stared at Ryan with narrowed eyes for a moment – Geoff watching with interest from the side – before asking, something distressingly gentle in his tone, “The people he was trying to take down... you were close to them. Your old team?”

Ryan's blood ran cold.

_Too close, too close, too close_ – they were all too close. To him, to the things he had kept close to his chest for so long, locked up tight along with the secrets of his identity, of his face – he'd let them in too much. He'd already gone too far, given away his home – it was going to tear him apart.

“That doesn't matter.” It came out frozen and stiff, but Jack didn't look hurt.

Just horribly, painfully _understanding_.

Ryan turned his head away, but Geoff spoke up next.

“After you've killed him,” he said. “What will you do then? Go back to just taking jobs? Retire?”

“I'll get to that when I come to it.”

Geoff and Jack looked at each other in some silent communication.

“We hire a lot of people,” Geoff said then. “Even if not full time. I know a lot of big names like you tend to avoid getting associated with main players like us, but... it's been good working together.” He scoffed out a laugh. “Despite the kinks we had to work through. If you're ever looking for a job Jack and I definitely have a bunch we'd appreciate your help on.”

“Getting a bit ahead of ourselves, aren't we?” Ryan asked, but it was painfully obvious he was deflecting.

And that horrid, vulnerable tightness was swelling in his chest, again, because he knew this was a big thing. For someone of Geoff's calibre to extend an offer like that, even a roundabout one.

And the meaning behind it was clear. _We like you. We don't want this to be the last we see of you_.

He realised very quickly that the feeling went both ways.

_God_ , today had been a stupid mess of ups and downs, and suddenly he wanted nothing more than to just forget about it all for a couple of hours. He turned pointedly back to his book, scanning to find his place, the words running through his mind like water between his fingers until a single passage jolted him to a halt.

' _We have to live without sympathy, don't we? That's impossible of course. We act it to one another, all this hardness; but we aren't like that really. I mean... one can't be out in the cold all the time; one has to come in from the cold... do you see what I mean?'_

_Jesus fucking Christ_ , he thought, snapping the book shut and all but throwing it into his bag. _Someone up there is really fucking trying to tell me something_.

 

* * *

 

 

How someone could go their entire adult life without swallowing a single pill was beyond Ray, but apparently Gavin had managed to.

Getting Ryan's sleeping tablet down his throat had been an experience Ray never wanted to repeat. Not to mention Michael loudly yelling “ _Swallow it, bitch_!” had probably given everyone in the neighbouring rooms completely the wrong idea.

That fiasco was nothing compared to what happened some hours later, though. Gavin had finally dropped off to sleep, and Ray and Michael were sitting in bed together again – Michael dozing, Ray awake keeping the first watch – when it started. Low murmurs at first, just sleep-mutterings. But then thrashing, wild breathing, horribly tortured moans that even woke Michael up.

The two of them sat in the bed, watching Gavin writhe about. Both of them stiff, still, awkwardly silent.

It was Michael who reached out to press Ray's elbow, making him jump.

“Uh, we should do something,” he said, and Ray nodded mutely.

Michael slipped out of the bed and walked over to Gavin, sitting next to him. Ray followed quietly, reaching out to gently shake Gavin's shoulder.

“Gav... Gav? Wake up, buddy, it's okay.”

It took Gavin longer than Ray would have liked to stir from his dream; probably the influence of the medication. When he did, he didn't seem to know where he was, staring wildly about before his gaze finally focused on Michael and he practically slumped over in relief. He was trembling violently by this point, not quite hyperventilating but close to it, and Michael was the one to lean in and pull him close to his chest. It was less of a hug and more of a protective embrace, arms wrapped around Gavin like a shield.

_What the fuck happened_ , Ray couldn't help but think as he shifted across on the bed, reaching out to run his fingers soothingly through Gavin's hair.

This couldn't just be about Edgar, could it? Gavin still hadn't told them exactly what happened back in that restaurant. But Gavin's sleeping habits had been disturbed long, long before that – he still remembered that first night back at Geoff's house, when he'd run into Gavin in the kitchen in the middle of the night. He'd looked the same then; pale and shaky and tired to the bones.

“Damn it, damn it.” It was Michael muttering it, surprisingly – something fierce in his voice. His eyes met Ray's over the top of Gavin's head, and they were glittering angrily in the dim light. “Ray, shove the beds together again, will you?” The unspoken message was clear – _we can't leave him alone like this_.

Gavin still wasn't talking to them, but he responded to their touch – pressing himself closer against Michael's chest, practically burying his face in the other's shoulder, and they ended up staying like that – shifting so they were lying in the bed, Ray curled up above them, his eyes still on the door but one arm around Michael's shoulders and the other hand still reassuringly cupping Gavin's head.

A creeping unease spread over him as they settled in like that.

Because from where he was sitting – the surging affection and protectiveness he was feeling was not just directed towards Michael.

Just like last night, it was having all _three_ of them in the bed that made him feel like the jigsaw puzzle was complete. Like everything had fallen into place.

_Shit_ , thought Ray. _Shit, shit, shit –_ because he'd started realising his feelings for Michael around the same time he met Gavin and befriended him so quickly, and those emotions were all tangled up in each other – _stop this you fuck, you're... you can't think like that, you've got Michael, you've_ fucking got Michael _– you_ love _him you can't... you can't be thinking about Gav like that, that's just..._

Except there was something in the way Michael was holding Gavin now, curling around the taller man as much as possible – his grip tight but still somehow gentle – the way from this angle his lips almost looked like they were pressed to Gavin's forehead – seeing the way they interacted, Michael's gruff concern for the other (and his concern was not easily won, Ray knew) --

_Maybe it's not just me... maybe we could-_

He cut himself off right there.

_What the actual fuck, Narvaez. You and Michael only just got together. You still haven't... this whole thing is like, three days old. You can't stuff things up so soon by... by thinking about shit like that._

A guilty shame crept over him, leaving him feeling sick and anxious. It was not hard to keep awake for the rest of the watch that night.

 

* * *

 

Things were not better in the morning.

He swapped watch shifts with Michael halfway through the night – moving to lie down where he'd been in the bed, pulling his arm in around Gavin. And it was lying there, too close to the other man – Gavin's beard tickling at his neck, pressed against him so tightly he could feel the other's heart beating too fast – that he realised he was in far too deep, because his own heart started to pick up at little more than the proximity.

Gavin fit too well in his arms. There was absolutely no difference to him between holding Gavin now and the way he'd held Michael the night previous.

He was _fucked_.

And he felt a deep, bitter shame at it, because for God's sake, Gavin was – was messed up, somehow, that was the only reason they were in this position in the first place – Ray couldn't tell if he was sleeping or not, but either way he was quiet and inert and still trembling sporadically, and _this was not the fucking time_.

Somewhere that night, the hysterical thought occurred to him that _Michael and I need to take things faster_.

Because maybe that was it – this weird limbo they were in. Together but not yet fully acknowledging that they were together. Joking about sex without actually going all the way.

That was the thought that ended up stuck in his head when dawn finally rolled around the next morning, slow and grey and drizzling lightly, perfectly matching Ray's mood.

“Time to get up, guys,” Michael said, reaching out to shake Ray's shoulder – he'd been dozing, drifting between sleep and wakefulness, and he startled awake with a jump. “Come on, rise and shine.”

Gavin sat up instantly, confirming Ray's suspicions that he hadn't been sleeping much at all, and glanced between the two of them, suddenly awkward.

“I... sorry. Bloody kept you up, didn't I-”

“Don't you dare fucking apologise,” Michael said, jabbing a finger at Gavin's chest. “And we won't talk about this if you don't want to, just... don't apologise, okay?”

Gavin nodded, snapping his mouth shut. He looked at Ray again, seeming a little confused that they had been cuddling together so closely. Then he rose from the bed, snatching up his duffel and traipsing off to the bathroom.

Michael sighed heavily, running his hands over his face.

“What a night,” he said, and Ray nodded mutely – Michael's gaze turned to him, and he frowned.

“You okay? You look like shit. But cute shit,” he added, with a cheeky grin, and Ray smiled back.

“Just been thinking.”

“Yeah? Don't hurt yourself.”

But the thought was still stuck in Ray's mind – _move it faster, faster_ \- maybe out of some inane desire to prove to himself that _this_ was his relationship – he and Michael – maybe because he thought working out some of his frustrations physically would help – he didn't even know, it was stupid and a little frenzied, but it was _there_ , whirling through his exhaustion-addled mind like an out of control carousel.

Before he knew what he was doing he was on his feet, moving towards Michael, kissing him desperately.

Michael let out a startled _oomph_ , stumbling back as Ray pushed forwards to press him against the wall, hands fisted in the front of his t-shirt but quickly creeping up under it. The kiss was sloppy, all clashing teeth – Michael's breath still fast and startled against Ray's mouth – his skin warm and smooth under Ray's examining fingers.

“Ray...” Michael turned his head sideways, breaking off the kiss, reaching out to gently grab Ray's wrists. “Ray, what are you doing?”

“Moving things along,” Ray said – his heart was pounding now, and Michael's fingers rotated around his wrist, thumb pressing against his pulse point. He glanced up at Ray, looking endearingly confused – hair still mussed and dishevelled, eyes lidded with exhaustion – and Ray tugged at his grip, trying to get his hands free, but Michael just continued to stare at him.

“It's like, fucking six in the morning,” Michael said.

“You complaining?” Ray asked, raising an eyebrow, and Michael shook his head. He let go of Ray, but the mood had been broken now – Ray turned away awkwardly, feeling embarrassed all of a sudden.

“Dude,” Michael said, reaching out to grab his shoulder. “Are you... what was that all _about_? I thought we wanted to take things slowly, not... not start it off with a morning quickie and God damn _Gavin_ in the next room.”

“You're right,” Ray said, stiffly – and he could feel heat rising to his cheeks now. _Stupid, stupid, stupid_ – he still felt sick, still felt confused. “I don't... I wasn't thinking.”

“Is everything alright?” and Michael was frowning now, but before Ray could reply, Gavin emerged from the other room – and he shook his head, turning away, drained and not wanting to explain it right now.

Michael looked like he wanted to press further, but he let it drop, moving past Gavin to get to the bathroom himself.

Ray was still standing, staring at his own clenched fists, when Gavin came up next to him.

“Hey X-Ray,” he said, softly. “Thanks for last night.”

“Save it, Gav-” He cut himself off when Gavin's face fell a little, and forced a smile. “I mean it. Don't worry about it. What are friends for, right?”

“Right,” Gavin replied, and gave a funny sort of smile before turning away just as quickly and awkwardly as Ray felt.

_Jesus Christ_. He fought the urge to bury his face in his hands. _This. Is. Fucked. Up._

 

* * *

 

They made good time that day. They were quiet in the car, discussing little more than the mission – running over the plans Gavin had, trying to memorise the layout of the fairground. Talking weapons and strategies. It was a relief to get into the zone, to concentrate on the job – it meant Ray could keep his mind off all the other shit.

By noon the faint roar of the ocean could be heard over the rumble of the car's engine, and a crisp, salty breeze was hanging in the air. Before long the road began to slope upwards, rounding the coastal cliffs, and then the sea appeared before them. It was still drizzling gently and the water looked grey, the waves violent. The white peak of the lighthouse was visible on the hill overhead.

There was a viewing platform looking out at the ocean by the side of the road, and they pulled into the roadside parking there, where it was quickly agreed that Ryan, Geoff and Michael would go to scout out the fairground while the others remained behind, a larger group being more likely to draw attention.

Needing some space, Ray left Gavin in the car and headed out into the rain. He walked out onto the viewing platform and took off his glasses so they wouldn't get wet, shoving them into his pocket. The ocean before him was now little more than a grey blur, but he could smell the strong scent of brine and chalky mud. Could feel the sea winds whipping through his hair and his clothes. He was getting cold and wet but couldn't quite bring himself to care.

He heard a footfall behind him and turned, squinting to make out Jack.

“You alright?” the other man asked gently.

Ray nodded. “Just needed some air.”

Jack moved up next to him, leaning on the platform rail, his elbow just touching Ray's.

“Big job tonight,” he said, quietly. “Hopefully we can take down this damn duck once and for all.”

Ray nodded, but he was distracted – and it must have shown, because Jack turned to him, face creasing in concern.

“Seriously, Ray, are you alright? You seem really off.”

Ray bit his lip. It was no time for this, he knew – personal drama needed to take a backseat to the job – but at the same time... he _trusted_ Jack, possibly more than he'd ever trusted anyone, at least with his personal, emotional business. And Jack had helped him before – God, helped him _so much_.

“I...”

And the problem was. The problem was, he barely knew himself what he was thinking or feeling. How could he even begin to explain it to someone else?

“What do you do when you love more than one person?”

As soon as the words left his mouth he regretted them, because _shit_ , that came out wrong – that didn't even begin to explain it – why the fuck had he jumped straight to _love_?

Jack was very, very silent, and Ray forced himself to look at him – but without his glasses on the other man's face was little more than a blur of shapes and colours, and he couldn't tell what he was thinking at all.

“Ray,” Jack began, slowly.

“I, I don't...” And fuck, the words tripped out of his mouth in a confused attempt to _fix this_. “Not, like. Like cheating on someone but. But if you think you love two people – if you think you _could_ love two people, if the... the potential is there and you don't... I've heard of like. Shit like that. People in relationships like that. I don't know.”

“Hold up a second, Ray.” And Jack sounded confused now – _concerned_. “You need to slow down, what the _fuck_.”

The shock in his tone only intensified the agonising levels of shame shooting through Ray's stomach. His face was burning by now, despite the cold weather and the cool, lashing rain, and he pulled his hood up, turning away to hide his face.

“Forget it, Jack, I didn't – forget I asked anything. _Please_.”

“Ray, wait-”

Jack snatched at his arm but Ray jerked it away and made for the car – it was a good escape plan; Jack wouldn't bring it up in front of Gavin.

And his heart was hammering now, a thick, churning nausea deep in the pit of his stomach, and all he could think was _I fucked up, I fucked up, I fucked up_ – not even just with the conversation with Jack. But with Michael, and Gavin, and his fucking _feelings_ and _Jesus fucking Christ_ he had no idea how he was going to work through this.

 

* * *

 

The plan was fairly simple.

There were several entrances to the fairground, and it was remote enough, quiet enough there that they'd quickly worked out the routes the guards patrolling the entrance points took. They would enter together through the back exit, eliminating the guards there silently and then taking up their intercom so that Gavin could stay tuned into the communication system and they'd know if they were about to be busted.

From there they would split up into the groups they'd planned before – Michael and Ryan heading to the storage shed to plant the explosives, Ray and Jack providing cover from two vantage points they'd found, Geoff coordinating them all, and Gavin sticking with Geoff.

They were now waiting for nightfall, in the quiet stages that always preceded a mission – off checking and cleaning their weapons, getting in the zone themselves. The rain had let up by now so they were still out at the parking lot.

Ryan fancied that the others were acting a bit strangely – Jack and Geoff had been whispering together before, but it was Michael and Ray they'd been glancing at, not Ryan, so he knew it wasn't about him – the younger men quieter than usual, but that was to be expected before a hit as big as this.

Ryan pushed off from where he'd been leaning against one of the cars, looking around to keep tabs on the others. His gaze fell on Gavin, sitting alone a little way away. He didn't appear to be doing anything much, was just sitting cross-legged on the damp ground, seeming lost in thought.

Ryan hesitated. Then thought, _fuck it_ – they couldn't avoid each other forever – and headed over.

“Gavin,” he called out as he approached.

Gavin lifted his head. He tensed when he saw who it was, then forced a smile.

“Hey Rye-bread.”

“Rye-bread?” He crouched beside Gavin, eyebrows rising. “That's a new one.”

“Better Rye-bread than wet bread,” Gavin said, and snickered a little. Ryan did not particularly understand that, but shrugged, glad that they were at least back on reasonably good terms.

“Geoff give you a weapon yet?” he asked, and Gavin shook his head, suddenly nervous.

“Ahh... no. Don't think I'll need one.”

“Hopefully not, but we need to prepare for every precaution.” He pulled one of the knives from his belt and handed it over. Gavin took it gingerly, like it would burn him.

“Just in case,” Ryan said, staring at him intently, and Gavin met his gaze squarely before nodding.

“Just in case,” he repeated, and Ryan nodded.

“Ray and Michael have been teaching me some self defence, anyway,” Gavin added, and Ryan couldn't help but bark out a startled laugh.

“Have they now?”

“Absolutely. I could take you on right now.”

Ryan stood up and adopted a fighting stance. “Come on then.”

Alarm flashed over Gavin's features. “Uhh. I was joking-”

“I know. But show me. Throw a punch.” And he was quashing it down, because if there was one thing it was good at it was detaching himself before a mission, but there was an undercurrent of worry about bringing Gavin into the field like this. It was one thing that he didn't know how to shoot, but the added fact that he had the build of a twig was not helping to reassure Ryan.

Gavin frowned, but got to his feet and punched at Ryan's open hand. His form was actually surprisingly good – it seemed he'd been taught that before – even if there wasn't a great deal of force behind it.

“It was mostly how to escape grabs and stuff,” Gavin said, and Ryan nodded, reaching out to grab his arm. Gavin twisted out of his grip – or tried to, because again, he had the theory of it down, but in practice he just wasn't quite _strong_ enough, especially since Ryan wasn't even holding onto him that hard. To emphasise this, Ryan jerked his arm around, careful not to actually hurt him – Gavin stumbled, off balance, and fell back into his chest.

Ryan caught him, gripping his shoulders firmly. “They might've given you some tips but I don't want you relying on this,” he said grimly. “Stick close to Geoff, alright?”

“I... okay,” Gavin said, a touch awkwardly – and it was then that Ryan realised he was still holding him very close, and immediately let go. Gavin stepped away, straightening his jacket, and there was a tense, frozen pause – but not an unpleasant one, somehow, even if Ryan quickly began to feel that loathsome _embarrassment_ rising up.

“Thanks Rye-bread,” Gavin said then, with a grin, and Ryan flapped a hand at him.

“Don't lose my knife,” he replied, and Gavin gave a jaunty salute before walking off. And Ryan huffed out a breath, to no small degree relieved that things hadn't ended up too awkwardly. And sure, they still weren't talking about what had happened, but ignoring it was better than, well, letting it fester between them. Than acknowledging it and letting it pull them apart.

 

* * *

 

 

The speed at which things went to shit was fucking _astronomical_.

In hindsight, they should have expected it.

They should have fucking expected it – because Edgar had always been one step ahead of them so far. Because Shadles still had eyes on them – they'd let that slip past them. Because this had happened every single time they went to confront him so far.

But somehow – somehow they still thought they had the element of surprise.

And things went very well at first. As night fell they approached the fairground. It was a truly terrible place; built high on the edge of the cliff where the wind seemed harshest and coldest. It had long been abandoned – most of the rides were quite vintage looking, worn down and eerie in the dark and the night. The inclement weather meant there was little moonlight to see by, and everything seemed black and evil.

But they got in, as planned. They took out the three guards, as planned, and when Gavin took up their intercoms and listened in, nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

Of course it didn't.

It was their _hope_ that got the best of them – a naïve optimism that Ryan would never have fed into if he was working on his own. A willingness to believe that things were going exactly as planned, that they weren't being played for fools.

Which they were.

Because they were standing there - in a group, not having split up yet - in a back drive between a delivery zone and a rundown carousel, when a tremendous explosion rang out, filling the night with colour and noise and _fire_ , and they whipped around to see a nearby building site – a ride abandoned while under construction, still little more than half a building and a lot of scaffolding – combust into flames.

The scaffolding fell away from the burning wall and down towards them, and there was instant chaos as they all scrambled to get out of the way in time. Debris and shrapnel was raining down around them, and Ryan's ears were ringing from the blast, confusion and alarm surging through him as he threw himself sideways, rolling towards a nearby low wall for cover.

“What the fuck was that?” Geoff's voice crackled through the earpiece – before cutting off into static. Everyone else's was dead silent as well.

The explosion had fallen into a ringing quiet, and Ryan peered up from behind the wall.

Soldiers.

Mercenaries were flooding the fairground from all directions – and striding straight down the drive towards them was the duck, in all her horrific glory – a giant gun in one hand, the remote to the demolition charge that had just gone off in the other.

_Fuck_ , was Ryan's immediate thought – _again, fucking_ again _he knew we were coming fuck fuck fuck_ – and he couldn't see any of the others; there was still a great cloud of dust and too many large, burning chunks of scaffolding and brickwork around the area.

Then a hand grabbed his elbow, and he turned to see Jack.

' _Need to get out of here_ ,' the man mouthed – probably said out loud, but Ryan couldn't hear for the ringing in his ears.

And then he hesitated.

He fucking _hesitated,_ because for some reason _Michael_ was at the forefront of his mind – _where the fuck is Michael_? And then Gavin, Ray – Geoff.

But there was no time – the mercenaries were closing in, and Jack was tugging insistently at his arm, and he let himself be pulled away, turning and stumbling into the darkness of the fairground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the abrupt ending ehehe. Needed to set up the POVs for the next one~
> 
> Thanks so much to all who've left comments/kudos so far! <3


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **T/W: a non-main character meets a rather grisly end. Not graphic but manner of death could be a bit disturbing.**

So things had gone completely, utterly, _wildly_ wrong.

Geoff's ears were ringing. He couldn't hear anything except a shrill, high clamour, like a hundred fire alarms or an old-fashioned alarm clock trapped inside his brain. His head was pounding. His whole body ached.

The blast had come out of nowhere, startling them before they'd even had time to split off into their smaller groups. And Geoff's first thought had been for Gavin, because the two of them were meant to stick together – that was the plan, the plan that was now irrevocably ruined – but then the scaffolding had started raining down on them, and the last he saw of Gavin was him lunging sideways to avoid being crushed by chunks of falling debris.

There was dust everywhere. In his nose, mouth, throat – _lungs_. He wheezed, hacking and coughing as he sat up. He still couldn't hear anything. Could barely see through the dust. And he could feel heat.

_Fire_.

Jerking himself upright – he'd been dodging the scaffolding and ended up rolling against a wall – he stared frantically around.

He could hear gunshots, faintly through the ringing in his ears, but they were so distorted he couldn't tell where they were coming from. Everything was just _dust_ and _smoke_ and there were burning chunks of the building all around and absolutely no sign of the others-

“-eo _ff_.” The voice warped into his ears, muddled and confused as though he was hearing it underwater, and he turned as a hand grasped his elbow.

It was Ray, face smudged with dust and ash – bleeding from a scrape on his brow but otherwise seemingly unharmed. Relief slammed into Geoff like a train – at least one person was still alive, at least he wasn't alone – and he reached out to clasp Ray's hand.

He reached up to his earpiece, but it was dead silent – the explosion must have damaged it somehow. Blown it out, maybe. And he cursed under his breath, because that was their only means of communicating with each other – Gavin was too worried about Shadles tracking their movements, their electronics, to risk using their phones, even the disposable ones.

“Let's get out of here,” Ray said, jerking his head sideways, and Geoff nodded.

They picked their way out of the debris. The faint gunshots stopped, probably as the mercenaries realised that they were wasting ammo when they couldn't see anything.

Out of the cloud of smoke and dust they emerged into the cool night air. Geoff looked around. The fairground was dark and silent, the rides looming up around them like enormous, twisted sculptures. Geoff's eyes tracked the black loops of a roller-coaster across the clouds of the night sky. He froze as he caught sight of movement in the shadows across the park, and grabbed Ray's wrist, yanking him back against the wall of a nearby building.

“They're splitting up,” he whispered. “Searching the park-”

He broke off as a beam of torchlight split the night, followed by several others and raised voices. More figures emerged from the darkness, heading straight for them.

“ _Shit_ ,” Geoff hissed. “Come on, come on-”

There were too many to fight – especially not when they were still disoriented from the explosion. He tugged Ray after him as he headed around the side of the building, but the movement caught the attention of the mercenaries and he heard them shout before giving chase.

He broke into a sprint, Ray right behind him. His chest was burning but he forced himself to move faster as they pelted through the park – and _fuck_ he wished he could remember the layout, but he didn't have time to pause and think – just ran, dodging between long derelict candy stands and side shows until finally he turned a corner and saw a toilet block looming up ahead.

They'd put a little distance between themselves and their pursuers, so he reached out and grabbed Ray's arm again, pulling him sideways. The door to the disabled toilet swung open when he pushed it, and he shoved Ray inside before slamming the door behind them, fumbling to lock it.

It was pitch black in there.

He stood, trying to catch his breath, squinting furiously in the darkness – his heart pounding, bruises aching, but registering quickly that he was otherwise unharmed. The ringing in his ears was slowly beginning to fade and soon he could hear nothing but his harsh breaths in the darkness-

And Ray.

Ray gasping and gasping like a drowning man, breathing far too fast. A pang of concern hit Geoff and he fumbled for his torch, praying he hadn't lost it somehow.

He hadn't. As soon as he flicked it on both of them cringed, holding up a hand to shield their eyes against the sudden brightness.

“Fuck, they – they'll see the light,” Ray started, and Geoff quickly put his hand over the bulb of the torch, letting only a little light seep out between his fingers.

“You okay?” he demanded. “Are you hurt?”

Ray shook his head, even as Geoff moved forward, scanning him. He didn't seem injured, but his chest was heaving and there was an odd look on his face. Geoff had seen him on missions a dozen times before, and he'd always been professional as fuck – even when things went badly he never really _panicked_ , not like this – but now he looked worried, _too_ worried, and when he moved to sit down against the far wall, pulling his knees up to his chest, Geoff was suddenly reminded of how he'd found Gavin some days before, huddled in the corner of Ryan's bathroom.

He frowned. Ray had been out of sorts all evening, and Jack had told him what he'd been asking about earlier.

“Ray.” He moved closer, crouching next to him. “Calm down, dude.”

“Sorry – sorry.” Ray laid his gun on the tiled floor beside him and scrubbed his hands over his face, only succeeding in smudging more dirt and grime all over himself. “I don't know what-”

“It's okay.” Geoff glanced at the door, but he couldn't hear anything – couldn't see any light approaching them in the crack beneath the door – so he determined that they were safe, for now. He knelt down and grasped Ray firmly by the shoulders. “Breathe, alright?”

“Michael-”

“Don't worry about Michael, okay, he – I'm sure he's fine.” Except with the adrenaline and panic fading away, it hit him that they had no idea where any of the others were – if they'd been hit by the falling scaffolding, if they'd been picked off in the confused moments afterwards – if the duck was killing them right now. And oh God, _Jack_ – but things like this had happened before, and all he could do was trust in his boyfriend's ability to keep himself safe. “Come on, things've gone south before – he can take care of himself.”

Ray nodded, but he still looked on the verge of a major break down.

It hit Geoff, then, that this wasn't really about their current situation.

_What do you do when you love more than one person_? That was what Ray'd asked Jack – and Geoff was ninety nine percent sure that Gavin was involved somehow, because he'd be lying if he said he hadn't noticed there was _something_ between them – even if they hadn't realised it themselves at the time, the easy affection Ray showed the other man was on par with how he treated Michael.

And God, what a mess – for Ray to realise it so _soon_ after starting things with Michael, and while they were in the middle of a fucking dangerous situation as well. Jack had said he'd been on the verge of freaking out already when they spoke – so it was no wonder their carefully made plans going to shit had pushed him over the edge. He was probably stressed as all hell – concerned about Michael even before they got separated – suddenly Geoff felt an overwhelming wave of care for him, a crushing desire to _help_ , somehow – to protect him.

“Ray... it's okay. It's okay.”

“It's not fucking _okay_ ,” Ray spat, venomous suddenly, “You don't even know what-”

“Jack told me.”

Ray fell silent, mouth dropping comically open for a moment before snapping shut. Suddenly he looked _terrified_ , and Geoff hastened to continue.

“It's Gavin, right? Like I said. It's _okay_. You need to calm down because freaking out isn't helping either of us here, alright?”

Ray stared at him for a few moments – and Geoff kept his grip tight and steady on his shoulders, staring intently into his eyes. After a little while Ray's breathing finally slowed as he seemed to get himself together somewhat. He turned his head away, shaking a little.

“No. It's not... it's not okay. I don't even know what I-”

“Jack's not mad at you for asking,” Geoff said. “He's not... disgusted, or whatever else you might be thinking.” When Ray relaxed a little in his grasp, he knew that was one fear abated, at least. “Look, the two of us would be the last people to judge you for whatever you may or may not be feeling, alright?”

“Maybe,” Ray said, grimly. “But Michael...”

Geoff closed his eyes for a minute. _Michael_.

Michael was about as straightforward as they came – he wasn't one to beat around the bush and he never flinched away from telling it like it was – often in a brutally honest manner. But despite all that, Geoff found himself suddenly uncertain of what he might think about Ray's little revelation, so to speak.

On the one hand – Geoff _wanted_ to believe he'd be totally fine with it. That this could have a happy ending.

But at the same time – he remembered how Michael had gotten when Ray and Gavin first became just _friends_. To discover that his – incredibly recent – boyfriend was already falling for a _second_ guy – it might not end prettily.

But then again...

_Michael loves Ray_. It was plain to see, even if, to Geoff's knowledge, they hadn't told each other properly yet.

_And Gavin? How does Michael feel about Gavin_?

The sudden shift in Michael's attitude made that harder to determine, even if they were getting along now.

But he was getting ahead of himself here – making assumptions – what mattered was _right now_ , and right now freaking out over hypotheticals was the last thing Ray needed to be doing.

“Listen,” he said firmly. “These things – these feelings – they aren't as uncommon as you might think. And having them doesn't make you a bad person. It's what you do about them – the choices you make – _that's_ what will be either right or wrong. Listen to me, okay,” he added, sensing that his words might be falling on deaf ears – that Ray might be tuning out, trapped in his own head. “Just _listen. J_ ack and I can give you advice, sure, but it's not down to us. He and I – we've talked about stuff like this before. We know that if _we_ wanted to make something like that work with, with another person – well, we'd give it a damn good go but we'd _both_ have to be informed, and into it, and whatever else. So Michael is really the one you need to be talking to about this.”

The most horrified expression crossed Ray's face. “You want me to _tell him?_ ”

“Maybe not right this second – or tomorrow, or even this week. Assuming we all make it out of here,” he added, with a wry grin – though Ray just shot him a rather unamused look, obviously not appreciating that sort of black humour at this moment. “But you do need to talk about it. Bottling it up like that, kicking yourself over it? Not fucking healthy, dude. But look, you're not alone here. Jack's not judging you for it. I'm certainly not. And I can't speak for Michael, but I do know he'd be far, far more upset if you were upset and brooding over this for ages. You act like something's wrong, he'll want to know what it is, and _lying_ about it – that will just get you in deep, so. You're going to _have_ to tell him at some point if this keeps up.”

Ray nodded, slowly. He still looked worried, tongue darting out across his lips nervously – but something in Geoff's words seemed to have reassured him a little.

“And Gavin?” he asked, quietly, and Geoff sighed.

Gavin was the wild card, the part he'd been trying not to think about, because he obviously had far more on his mind at the moment than romance and Geoff had no idea how he'd react to any one of them coming onto him.

“Don't worry about Gav right now,” he advised. “Michael is your first priority. Actually scratch that, getting the f _uck out of here_ is our first priority.”

“Right,” Ray said, with a half-smile – and Geoff squeezed his shoulders before pulling his hands away, smiling back.

“When it comes down to it, buddy, we've all committed far, far worse crimes than loving somebody.”

The word 'love' made Ray flinch a little, but he nodded.

“You don't need to do anything about it right this moment. Work out how you feel first. Don't stress out about it. Things always seem much worse in your head – okay?”

“Okay,” Ray whispered – and he looked so mournful sitting there in the dark, so young and alone, that Geoff couldn't help reaching forward to pull him into a tight hug. Ray seemed startled for a second, but after a moment his arms came up around Geoff, loosely grasping the back of his jacket. Geoff squeezed him tighter – and he was still trembling lightly, from adrenaline or stress or maybe just exhaustion – but he let his head drop to Geoff's shoulder, and for a moment they just sat, in the quiet and the dark, and eventually Ray's breathing stilled and calmed.

Again that crushing weight of _affection_ for him bore down on Geoff, and suddenly, for a moment, it stared him in the face, filling him with a sense of almost _panic_ – _you like him – you like him_ a lot _– were you maybe a little_ too _eager here to encourage him to..._

He pushed those thoughts away. _Not the time right now_.

He released Ray, turning back to the door and pulling it open a sliver. All was quiet and empty outside.

“What's the plan now?” Ray asked, sounding rather more determined.

“They've moved on from here.” He shut the door again and moved to check the clip of his gun. “We need to find the others. Let's head for the exit and see if they're there, and take out as many of those fuckers as possible along the way.”

“Sounds good,” Ray said. With a solid goal in mind he seemed more reassured, standing up off the dirty tiled floor and moving to follow Geoff as they crept back outside.

Back towards the carousel there was still smoke rising against the dark sky. Rather than trek through the centre of the park, they opted to go around, heading for the main exit way. They walked in silence, on edge – and it wasn't long before they saw torchlight in the distance and ducked back against a nearby wall.

“-already checked this part. She wants us to loop back around past the kids' area,” one of the mercenaries' voices drifted towards them as they began to approach.

“They might've left the park,” another said.

“No – we've got guards on all the exits and no one's called in.” The third.

Geoff frowned a little. Something seemed strange about the three mercs, and he couldn't quite place what it was.

Before he could dwell on it there was another distant, sharp explosion, coming from the other side of the park – not as big as the first one. It sounded more like a grenade or a charge going off.

“What the _fuck_ was that?” one of the mercs spat, head snapping around.

While they were distracted Ray leaned out past Geoff and got two shots off, dropping two to the ground instantly with perfect head shots. Geoff couldn't help but be impressed; it never failed to amaze him just how talented Ray was for someone so young.

The third stumbled back as her companions fell beside her, turning to point her weapon at them – but Ray was already stepping forward, gun rising in a fluid motion to shoot her in the chest. She fell back with a shout but Geoff could tell even in the dark she was wearing kevlar – before Ray stepped up over her to execute, a single, neat shot square in the centre of the forehead.

“Nice going,” Geoff said, quietly, and Ray turned to him with a half-smile.

“Helped that they didn't see us coming.” He glanced off in the direction of the explosion. “What do you think that was?”

“I don't know.” It could have been anything – the duck blowing something up to try smoke them out. A guard tossing a grenade. Or Michael.

He bent to grab one of the guards' weapons – an automatic rifle, and thank Christ Ray had taken out this guy first – and that's when it hit him, what he'd found strange before.

Edgar had a lot of men in his employ. Only six of them were his main circle, granted – but the rest of them, his seemingly endless stream of manpower – they weren't just your run of the mill hired guns. They'd all been smart, strategic, skilled enough to handle bigger weapons like this, or specialists like Mark Nutt.

It wasn't difficult to build yourself up a paid army if you didn't mind sub-par amateurs (as people like Felix often did – half-rate criminals who got what they paid for, which was little). But this many _professional_ killers – that was expensive, not to mention that they weren't exactly _common_.

Leading to the other thing that had bothered him – their voices. While they'd spoken too quickly and briefly for him to get a sense of the accent – none of them had sounded local.

It dawned on him, then. _Edgar's importing_.

“Should we check it out?” Ray's voice broke him from his thoughts, still preoccupied with the blast – but Geoff shook his head.

“No. It'll have distracted them, in any case – let's take that as our chance to get to the exit.”

Ray nodded – slightly reluctantly, but he respected Geoff enough, it seemed, to trust his judgement. Which Geoff found oddly flattering, to be honest – he might have employed Ray and Michael, to be sure, but he knew they'd been pulled into a lot more than they initially signed up for, so as far as still being under his contract – it was questionable. But so far they'd both bowed to his authority, and not just because he was paying them.

He'd been surprised to find just how excited he was to continue working with them – if they all got out of this.

And not just them. Ryan too – if he took up Geoff's offer – which more and more Geoff found himself hoping he would.

Maybe it was the forced proximity of the last few weeks, but the thought of this job finishing and Ryan disappearing back into the shadows, becoming little more than a security tape rumour or the occasional, wildly unlikely story Geoff heard floating around... something about that upset him.

The same went for Gavin. Because Christ, the kid would need a holiday after this – but after that? Geoff didn't want to never see him again either.

They reached the exit to find it patrolled by two guards and took down one each. But there was no sign of the others, and Geoff didn't want to just hang about waiting for them.

“You got your rifle, still?” he asked, turning to Ray, who nodded. He'd been using his pistol but his rifle was still strapped over his shoulder.

“Sure. What's the plan?”

“Get to a high point. Scan the park. Pick off the guards as we can.”

“Sounds good.” Ray glanced around, then pointed. “There.”

Geoff looked over to see a nearby ferris wheel. He nodded with a slow grin. “Perfect.”

 

* * *

 

 

It wasn't until they actually reached the wheel that he realised it may not be such a good idea after all. The entire park had been built close to the edge of the cliff, and the ferris wheel in particular was close to the precipice side of the area. On the one hand, this meant there would be an amazing sea view from the top.

On the other, it looked down onto a dizzying drop, and the cold, strong ocean winds were making the carts swing gently, with horribly shrill creaking, squeaking rusty noises.

Geoff reached out and shook one of the support poles. “I'm starting to think this might not be stable,” he said, frowning a little. “It looks old as dicks.”

“Dear God,” said Ray, pulling a face. “Call the fucking safety people!”

Geoff shoved at him with a laugh. “I mean it, it's probably mostly rust by now. It might take your weight but not mine.”

“It's _fine_ ,” Ray assured him. “If you're too scared wait down here.”

“I'm not fucking scared,” Geoff snapped, affronted at the mere suggestion – and began to climb.

To his relief, the wheel might have looked rickety, but it was not actually in too bad a shape. The creaking was a bit alarming, but it held up fine under his weight and he found himself more concerned with not looking down. By the time he reached the top and pulled himself into the uppermost cart, his arms were burning from the exertion. He looked down to see Ray climbing nimbly up, and reached down to give him a hand, pulling him up next to him.

“Thanks,” said Ray.

For a moment they caught their breath, then Geoff looked out over the park.

This far out from the city, and with no electricity running through the place, it was hard to see anything much. The moonlight was weak tonight, so most of the park was nothing but darkness and shadow. A small area was burning where the building that had exploded was still on fire, lighting up its immediate surroundings – and there was another, smaller fire burning across the park, presumably the source of the second explosion.

The darkness meant that anywhere the mercenaries were using torches lit up like fireflies under them. Geoff easily counted two dozen, maybe even three – most of them scattered about patrolling but others milling over near the second fire.

Ray shifted to crouch in the small space on the floor of the cart, lifting his rifle to his shoulder, and Geoff shuffled over to make room for him.

“Can you get them from here?” Geoff asked, and Ray shook his head.

“Too far. But any that patrol in this direction – I can take a shot at them. Keep that torch off, though, we don't want them seeing the light and knowing we're up here.” He sat back on his haunches. “Gotta wait for them to come a bit closer.”

Geoff nodded. He turned, twisting in his seat to look out over the water. This far out from the smoke and smog of Achievement City, there were far more stars in the sky. It was almost pretty – y'know, if it wasn't for the guys all around trying to kill them.

Ray followed his gaze and scoffed a little. “Would've been nice here once.”

“It's sort of nice now,” Geoff pointed out. And then, at Ray's disbelieving look, “We're safe here for the moment. Sort of peaceful. You gotta take the moments where you can get them, dude.”

Ray looked about to refute that, then paused. Geoff waited patiently. Because sure, they were both still nervous, worried about the rest of their team and sore and aching from the exertion of the last couple of hours.

But it was quiet up here, and not too cold or wet, and the faint roar of the ocean and slap of waves against the cliff face was almost soothing.

“I guess,” Ray admitted – and leaned forward to look out at the water.

_The view is not the only thing that is attractive_ , Geoff realised – and immediately kicked himself for the thought, which had hit him out of nowhere. It was true, though – even covered in dust and grime there was something about the Ray set himself – the professional ease he handled the rifle with, maybe, or the way his eyes softened when he looked up at the stars – something that made Geoff's gaze linger, until he realised he was staring – realised that his own expression had slackened into something that was far too soft and affectionate. He jerked his head away a little too quickly, and Ray noticed – turning to him with a slight smile tugging at his lips.

“I'm sorry,” Ray said then. “For freaking out on you back there. Not exactly professional.”

“Don't apologise,” Geoff replied. “You've put up with way more than I'm paying you for at this point.”

“Still,” Ray added, and looked away, something almost shy in his voice as he said, “You and Jack... both of you have been really good to us.”

“Really,” Geoff said. “Don't worry about it.” He grinned a bit, reaching out to squeeze Ray's shoulder. “And remember – no matter what else happens. _You love Michael_. And he loves you. Sounds sappy as shit, I know, but. Nothing's going to change that. So don't stress out about it, alright?”

“Okay,” Ray said. And then, after a moment. “I'm glad you're here with me.”

It was quiet – almost too quiet for Geoff to hear, but it made him smile. And it was true – if he'd been alone he would probably be a lot more panicked than he was now, frantically trying to locate the others rather than coming up with a rational plan. Having Ray here was reassuring.

“Me too buddy,” he said, and they looked at each other a moment longer before turning away to continue monitoring the park.

 

* * *

 

The first thing Michael registered when he woke up was that he was in rather a lot of pain.

The second was Gavin's face about three inches from his.

“Jesus Christ, Gav,” he groaned, reaching up to shove at him. “Get your freakishly large nose out of my face!”

Gavin reared back a little. And Michael was picking up more and more now – it was dark, but not completely dark, a dim orange glow providing just enough illumination to see by. Everything smelled like smoke. He could hear something in the distance – some sort of commotion, too muted and confused for him to make much sense of.

“Michael, that was mean Michael,” Gavin said. And then, hands fluttering around above him, “No, don't sit up-”

Too fucking late.

Michael sat up. And regretted it, because, y'know. _Instant pain_. A blazing fire set through his chest, making it feel like he was being stabbed in the lungs every time he tried to take a breath. He started coughing, but each motion only jolted his ribs further.

That was nothing compared to his shoulder. Even the motion of pushing himself upright with his left arm hurt so much that for a moment his vision actually flashed white and he nearly bit his lower lip completely in half.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck-”

“Lie back, lie back,” Gavin said, hand going to his good shoulder in an attempt to ease him back down, but Michael grabbed his wrist to stop him.

“Don't – I'm up now, anyway.” He tried to take shallow breaths through his nose, squeezing his eyes shut.

_Suck it up, you fuck, you've been hurt worse. Come on. Come_ on _._

It seemed to take forever, but eventually the pain in his ribs faded to a dull ache. He opened his eyes and was displeased to find that they were stinging with tears. He swiped them away angrily with his uninjured arm.

Gavin was watching him carefully.

“I'm fine,” Michael croaked, suddenly embarrassed.

“There's something stuck in your shoulder,” Gavin said, and Michael twisted his neck to look.

It was too dark to tell what it was – some sort of shrapnel, it seemed – but he could see a dark, spreading bloodstain across the front of his shirt. He managed a half-shrug on the other side.

“There aren't any vital organs in the shoulder, so I'm good for now. How long was I out?”

“About ten minutes,” Gavin replied, and Michael looked around. It took him a minute to work out that they were around the side of the carousel, in a small area for keeping bags and coats before going on the ride. To their left, in a small gap between the wall and the ride, he could see the flickering of fire. They hadn't moved far from the scene of the explosion, then.

_Ten fucking minutes_. It was a wonder they hadn't been caught and shot dead while he was unconscious.

“You dragged me here?” he demanded, and Gavin nodded.

“Yeah – you landed right next to me when... when that building blew up, I don't know. But I couldn't find the others, and the duck was there, so I just got you out of there and now... now there's bloody soldiers all over the gaff.”

Michael began to get up and Gavin moved to his side instantly. He tensed, expecting pain, but Gavin was very careful as he looped his arm around Michael's waist and helped heave him upright, both of them stumbling slightly at the effort. Michael grit his teeth as the motion jostled his wounds again, but by this point he was used to shoving injuries to the back of his mind and working through them.

“You okay?” Gavin asked, and Michael gave a jerking nod. He was shaking, though, and he knew Gavin could feel it.

“I'll live. Are _you_ okay?” he added, turning to narrow his eyes at him suspiciously. He didn't realise that with Gavin by his side holding him up, their heads were rather close together, and when he turned his face his nose bumped into Gavin's cheek. The other squawked, rearing back a little, his grip inadvertently tightening around Michael's side.

Michael winced as a fresh burst of pain hit his ribs, and Gavin immediately released him, stammering apologies.

“Fuck, sorry, sorry-”

“It's fine, Gav.” He breathed through it as best he could. “I mean it, though, are you alright?”

Gavin gave a jerking nod, avoiding his gaze – but Michael reached out and grabbed his jaw, yanking his face around to look him in the eyes. Because Gavin had been remarkably composed so far, and Michael was half-expecting him to break down into a panic attack any second.

But he didn't.

For a moment they stared at each other – Gavin's eyes were wide, pupils huge in the darkness – and Michael stared at him searchingly. Noticed how his breathing was tight and controlled even if he hadn't injured his ribs, his pulse too fast under Michael's fingers where he was gripping his chin.

He was fucking _terrified_.

But he was pushing it down – keeping his cool – for _Michael's_ sake, he realised, almost hysterically – Michael was injured. Michael could barely protect himself, let alone Gavin too – so he was forcing himself to stay calm for the both of them.

Something warm swelled in Michael's chest at that – hopefully not internal bleeding – something like pride, or perhaps affection – and he released Gavin's face in favour of putting an arm around his shoulders, leaning his weight on him.

“Come on,” he grunted. “I can walk – barely – so let's get the fuck away from here.”

“To where?” Gavin asked, and Michael paused.

“I... shit, I don't know.” The others would have fled by now, assuming they were all alive – and shit, don't even _think_ about the possibility that they weren't.

But Michael was in no state to go out and find them. Not when he could barely move on his own. They'd have to sit tight and trust the others to come to them. And if they didn't, well, then they were fucked either way.

“Where can we hide around here?” he asked. “You looked at the plans for this park for so fucking long, you must know some place.”

“I... yeah, actually,” Gavin said, eyes lighting up with some idea. “I think I know a spot.”

“Good. Wait, before we go, did you grab my bag?”

Gavin nodded, leaning over to pick up the bag of explosives Michael had brought with him. He slung it over his shoulder and Michael flinched involuntarily.

“Jesus Christ, dude, be fucking _careful_ with that. They're called _explosives_ for a reason.”

“Whoopsy-daisy,” Gavin replied, which Michael personally found to be a far too blasé response considering he could _blow them up accidentally any second now_. He settled for rolling his eyes – the only part of his body that was not in pain, and even then they were stinging from the smoke – and gripping the collar of Gavin's shirt for support as he took a few steps forward.

His ribs hurt like a bitch, but he could move, and they slowly shuffled forward, taking care to stay in the shadows as they made their way out of the little room and around the carousel.

This area was empty of Edgar's people. It seemed they'd moved off to search other parts of the park. But Michael could hear them, their shouts and footfalls and the occasional gunshot, and he tried to push himself to move faster.

He found himself leaning on Gavin more and more, and the other man pushed valiantly on – only pausing now and then to catch his breath and give Michael a break. They didn't speak, too intent on getting the hell out of dodge – but Michael was surprised to find some comfort in the press of the other's body against his side. It was reassuring to know that at least he wasn't alone.

Finally Gavin paused. “We're almost there,” he began, then broke off as they heard footsteps coming towards them, the beam of a torch splitting the night.

“Shit, get down!” Michael hissed, and Gavin pulled him sideways, tugging him down behind a nearby picnic table. Michael's shoulder banged the bench as he dropped to the ground and the white hot pain that exploded in his arm was so intense that he was pretty sure he actually blacked out for a second, because the next thing he knew he had his hand stuffed in his mouth, biting down as hard as he could to stifle the whimpers, tears streaming down his cheeks because _fuck that hurt, fuck that hurt, fuck fuck_ fuck that hurt-

“Shhh, shhh,” Gavin was whispering, soothingly. There was little he could do to help but sit, huddled against Michael's side, hand going out to reassuringly rub his knee.

Michael squeezed his eyes shut. He could hear footsteps still behind them, and muffled voices – but after a little while they faded away as the mercenaries passed on.

He pulled his hand from his mouth with a slow exhale of relief, letting his head thud back against the picnic table.

“ _Fuck_ that was close.”

“Are you alright?” Gavin's voice was small, worried – and Michael turned and forced a grin.

“'m fine. Let's keep moving.”

Gavin pulled him up again and they stumbled on. They were close, now, to wherever they were going, and it wasn't long before they pulled up in front of a building. Michael looked up at the sign, squinting to make out the words on the chipped and faded painted board. And then let out a hiss of breath as he realised where they were.

“The House of Mirrors, Gav? Really?”

“It'll be hard for them to find us in a maze,” was Gavin's logic, which – fuck, actually wasn't that stupid after all.

“Is it even fucking _open_?” Michael squinted up at the building, which was creepy, to say the least. It had been Victorian looking to start off with, and there was something inherently spooky about any sort of old fashioned edifice, but in the dark of the night with its cracked white paint and the two grimy, smudged distortion mirrors on either side of the doors, it made a chill run down his spine.

“I guess we'll find out,” Gavin replied. He left Michael leaning against the wall and went to try the door, but it was locked.

“I could try break it down,” he suggested, and Michael barked out a startled laugh.

“You run into that thing I'm pretty sure _you'll_ break in half, not the door. Normally I'd suggest blowing it but that would just alert everyone to where we are, so. There a side door?”

“Uhh, yes! Staff door.” Gavin wrapped his arm around Michael's waist again and they limped off.

Fortunately this door had been left unlocked, though it creaked horrifically loudly on its rusted hinges as they pulled it open.

Inside, the House of Mirrors was pitch black and forbidding.

“Got a torch?” Gavin asked, and Michael nodded, switching it on.

They took a few steps into the darkness – the staff corridor was little more than a side entranceway into the main maze – before Michael tugged at the hem of Gavin's shirt to get him to stop.

“Let me set some trip mines,” he said. “In case anyone follows us in here.”

Gavin nodded, pulling the bag off his shoulder and setting it much more carefully this time on the floor.

The process of setting up the mines involved a lot of kneeling down, bending over and fiddling that wreaked hell on Michael's ribs. But he got it done, finally – a little row of three mines, nearly invisible in the darkness – and quickly rose and limped back, pulling Gavin with him out of some paranoid fear that the other would somehow manage to step forward and set them off.

“Come on,” he said. “Let's get deeper in here.”

They reached the end of the corridor and turned into the actual maze part. Michael shone his torch forward and had to suppress a shiver.

Granted, he hadn't been to a fun park in a hell of a long time, but he was pretty sure mirror mazes weren't meant to be this fucking _hard_. A web of tight corridors stretched out before them, but every walled surface was completely covered in mirrors – some regular, some distorted. He found himself staring at a hundred Michael and Gavins, stretching as far as the eye could see. It made him feel a little dizzy.

Gavin let out a soft noise behind him. “Okay. This, uh. Is harder than I expected.”

“Keep your hand on the wall,” Michael said – the last thing he wanted was to bump into something.

Gavin complied, and they set forward at a snail's pace.

There was something very terrible about the silent darkness of this building, and Michael kept expecting something to appear behind them in the mirrors. He couldn't help but stare at his reflection as they passed.

He looked like shit, he realised that quickly – covered in soot and grime, scuffs and scratches all over his face. A trail of blood leaking down his arm from his shoulder, face pallid with dark hollows under his eyes and dust covering his hair.

They turned left and hit a dead end. Back tracked and found themselves in even deeper.

“We're gonna have to stop,” Michael said finally, when it became painful to breathe again. “I can't walk much more.”

Gavin nodded. “I think we're in deep enough now,” he said, and lowered Michael gently to the floor before sitting next to him, backed up against one of the walls staring at their own reflection.

There was a moment of silence.

Michael closed his eyes and tried to calm his pounding heart. He felt slightly nauseous, lightheaded from pain or maybe blood loss, and fumbled in his bag for a bottle of water. He took a few sips, washing the taste of charcoal from his mouth, then poured some on his sleeve and scrubbed it over his face before offering it to Gavin.

“Thanks,” Gavin said, taking it gratefully. “Umm, how's your arm?”

“Probably about to fall off,” Michael replied, and Gavin pulled a face.

“That's the one sort of injury I can't handle. One where bits get detached.”

“Imagine if we were trapped here and I got infected and you had to amputate-”

Gavin gagged, turning bodily away. “ _God no_. Don't talk about that, Michael, that's horrible.”

“Your face is horrible,” Michael sneered back, with all the wit of a twelve year old, and Gavin scowled at him.

“Look at that,” he said, pointing up at a mirror towards the ceiling. Michael followed his gaze. It was one of the ones with a curved surface, and as he shone the torch up towards it their reflection distorted, making them look like their faces were bulging outwards.

“Your nose looks even fucking bigger, Gav,” he informed him. “I don't know how that's possible, but somehow it has happened.”

“You're a great big bully, Michael,” Gavin said. “Look at your eyes, Jesus. They're all bulgy like fish. Your lovely brown eyes, Michael, I could look into them all day.”

“Fuck off,” Michael half-laughed, elbowing him in the side. Gavin squirmed away, but he was giggling now, a little hysterically perhaps, and Michael couldn't help but grin back.

The banter helped – the stupidity of their conversation occupying his thoughts, and he felt suddenly, abruptly _grateful_ to Gavin for being there with him. For distracting him when Michael knew just how easy it would be to let himself slip away into panic.

“At least my eyes are fucking normal, yours are like, three different fucking colours. I think they're diseased.”

“Aww, how'd you know that, Michael? Have you been staring at them?” Gavin teased – and Michael's face flushed as he realised that he had inadvertently given himself away.

“What – _no_ ,” he spluttered. Because he _hadn't_ , not really – or at least, not like _that –_ not any more than he stared at any other parts of Gavin and okay Jesus Christ this had gone downhill really fucking quickly.

“They're stupid like the rest of you,” he blustered, and Gavin pouted in mock hurt.

“At least my vision is intact, four-eyes,” he replied, and Michael couldn't help but laugh at that.

“Fuck, okay, you got me there.”

“Lovely little Michael with his lovely little glasses.”

“I'm not your lovely little anything, buddy, I'm taken as fuck, unless you want to fight Ray for the honour.” He meant it to be teasing but Gavin flushed a little, looking away – and shit, okay, maybe that was a line Michael wasn't meant to cross. Maybe it was something to do with Ryan.

_Oh God, should I bring that up?_ He'd spoken to Ryan about it, but neither he nor Ray had even entertained the possibility of questioning Gavin about it – but now really wasn't the fucking time. He let the subject drop.

There was a slightly awkward pause before Gavin broke it with a huffing laugh.

“I don't like all these mirrors, anyhow. They're damn creepy.”

“Scared something will appear?” Michael asked, and then began flickering the torch on and off. “Gav. Gav, look at this, look at the mirror. _Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary_ -”

“ _Mi_ -chael!” Gavin practically screeched, and tried to reach out and snatch the torch. “Stop it, don't do that – don't bloody play around with that, you'll summon it-”

“ _Summon_ it, Jesus Christ!” He was laughing, hard, and _really fucking regretting it_ because his ribs _hurt like fuck_ , and he quickly felt tears sting at his eyes again. He coughed a few times, trying to calm himself down and hold his shoulder as still as possible.

“Michael?” Gavin had shifted in front of him now, face twisted in concern. He took the torch, reaching out to gently grasp Michael's good shoulder. “Are you okay? On a scale of one to ten how much pain are you in?”

“Like. Fucking two hundred billion,” Michael scoffed. “M'fine, though. M'fine.”

Gavin was still staring at him, and Michael dragged his eyes up to meet his gaze. And God, his stupid, _stupid_ eyes that were somehow, like, brown in the middle but blue everywhere else. It should not be that fucking _comforting_ to have the idiot smiling at him like that.

“Please stay fine,” Gavin said, a bit nervously. “I do not want to be trapped alone here with a hundred reflections of your dead body.”

“Were you seriously scared Bloody Mary would appear?” Michael scoffed, and Gavin squirmed.

“You never know, this whole damn place is probably haunted. Why else would it have closed down?”

Michael opened his mouth, but before he could reply there was a loud clatter, breaking the silence, and they both jumped violently, falling completely silent as they strained to listen.

Thuds and rattles echoed through the corridors, coming from what Michael thought was the direction of the main entrance.

“They're trying to get in,” Gavin whispered – and Michael shivered a little. The other's breath was warm against his ear. He hadn't realised he was sitting so close.

“We'll be fine,” Michael hissed back – but pulled his gun from his belt, putting it on the floor beside him with his fingers wrapped loosely around it. They fell silent again, listening as the rattling slowly faded away – but shouting and footfalls continued around the side of the building.

Then came the explosion.

It wasn't a huge one – trip mines didn't have much reach – but it was enough to rattle the floor under them. Michael fell back against the wall, gasping in pain as the motion jostled his shoulder. Beside him Gavin ducked down, hands rising involuntarily to cover his head.

They were in no danger, though. The explosion was only at the entranceway, and after the initial noise, everything faded away.

Michael could hear Gavin whimpering softly beside him in the silence. Instinctively he reached out, grabbing the other's shoulder and squeezing gently.

“It's fine,” he whispered. “Our mines stopped them.”

“But now the mines have been detonated,” Gavin hissed back. “And the sound will have drawn more.”

Michael bit his lip. It was true.

Then Gavin stood up.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Michael tried to struggle to his feet, but without Gavin's help he couldn't quite get off the ground. He fell back, gasping in pain.

“I need to go check it out,” Gavin said. He sounded nervous as fuck – but determined. “Gotta see if they're coming in or what, if we need to move.”

“Gavin – just stay here, you moron, you can't...” And panic was starting to grip Michael now, because Gavin was not at all prepared to defend himself against – well, _anything_. But he was right – if he hadn't been injured Michael would have gone himself – they couldn't afford to not know what was happening out there.

“I'll be right back.” Gavin picked up the torch. Michael could see his hand shaking. He held out the gun to Gavin, but the other man shook his head.

“I'm more of a danger to myself than them if you give me that thing. Ryan gave me a knife.”

“Ryan gave you a _fucking knife_ , Jesus Christ, Gav, you should not be getting anywhere near close enough to them to stab them.”

“I'll be fine. I'll sneak there and sneak back. No one will see me.”

Michael bit his lip, worry overwhelming him – but Gavin was already moving off, and he watched the light disappear down the hall and around a corner, leaving him sitting in total darkness.

Soon he couldn't even hear Gavin's footsteps. He sat – quiet, cold, in pain – unable to see a God damn thing, just hoping against hope that the idiot wasn't off getting himself killed somewhere.

_Ray_. He'd barely spared a thought for him since this whole thing started – and suddenly his fear for the other intensified. _Oh, God, what if he's..._

He trailed off. He couldn't bear to think about that. Had to trust that he was fine – that _all_ the others were fine – that they were out there somewhere, hopefully looking for them.

He and Gavin had been closest to the building that exploded. Since they'd both been fine – or relatively fine, in Michael's case – he could only hope that the others had gotten off lightly as well.

_Shit, fuck, fuck_.

He clenched his fists. _God_ he wished Ray were here – longed for the simple touch of his hand on his shoulder, or curled around his wrist – just to know he was _there_.

_Or Geoff_ , the thought drifted into his mind, in the silence of the dark. He'd give anything to hear Geoff's stupid voice right now, or feel the gentle, reassuring press of Jack's warm hand. He'd even welcome the sight of Ryan's terrifying mask emerging from the darkness.

Gavin seemed to take forever to return. In the blackness Michael couldn't tell if minutes or hours had passed.

When he finally heard footsteps approaching, it made him jump. He sat up as much as he was able, holding his gun, heart pounding – but it was Gavin who emerged around the corridor. He was covering the end of the torch with his sleeve so that only a dull light filtered through.

“Michael,” he hissed, hurrying over – and he was trembling, Michael realised. “Michael, Michael-”

“What is it?” Michael demanded. “What's going on?”

“They're coming, Michael. They saw the explosion and they're coming – a bunch of soldiers and, and the duck too.”

“ _Fuck_ ,” Michael breathed. “Get me up,” he ordered, and Gavin complied, pulling him to his feet. Sitting down and resting had helped a little bit; he could limp slightly faster now.

“What do we do?” Gavin asked.

Michael froze. It was a decision he didn't want to have to make – whether they should risk moving, or risk staying here.

“There's an exit,” he said. “There must be. That's the whole point of this building, right? You get through the maze, you reach the exit.”

“That would make sense.”

“Okay,” Michael said. And shit, he could hear them now – or one person, at least. Heavy footsteps treading in from the staff entrance. Somehow he knew it was the duck. No one else had such a menacing walk.

“We make our way _quietly_ to the exit,” he whispered – and Gavin had gone stiff now, eyes wide, starting to breathe too fast – Michael pinched his side and he stifled a yelp.

“You can't go catatonic on me now, dude,” Michael hissed, and Gavin gave a jerking nod, seeming to snap out of it.

“Yeah – yeah.”

“Turn the torch off, the light will give us away.”

“We can't get out in the dark,” Gavin protested.

“I'd rather wander around in pitch blackness than have that duck zero in on us straight away,” Michael snapped – and Gavin hastened to comply.

He heard the other suck in a breath when he switched the torch off and they were plunged into darkness. But somehow it wasn't as disorienting when they were holding onto each other – even if he couldn't see a God damn thing, Michael was reassured by Gavin pressed close against his side, arm around him.

“Let's go,” Michael said, quietly – and they began to walk.

He had to trust Gavin not to crash them into any walls, since he couldn't really lift his left arm and his other was around Gavin, leaning on him – and Gavin moved much slower and more carefully than usual, one hand outstretched. They moved at a snail's pace, heading into the maze and hoping to God they were going the right way.

Michael could hear the duck's thudding footsteps echoing through the maze around them. Sometimes near, sometimes far. At one point they caught a beam of torchlight flashing around the corner and had to duck back into the shadows. Michael's heart was pounding so hard he was sure the duck could hear it – Gavin biting down on his own wrist beside him, trying not to make a noise. He slid his grasp from Gavin's shoulder to his hand, lacing their fingers together – Gavin squeezed back, and they stood there, huddled terrified in the darkness, both shaking, neither speaking-

But the duck moved by, and they didn't catch a glimpse of her, and continued to walk on.

They couldn't get out of the maze.

They hit dead ends. They walked in circles – literally, because they somehow looped back around to where they'd left the bag of explosives on the floor.

“We have to turn the light on,” Gavin whispered eventually. “I'll keep my sleeve over it – it won't be too bright.”

“Okay,” Michael agreed, reluctantly – they had little choice at this point.

Gavin switched on the torch and they both froze in horror.

The duck was standing behind them.

Some distance behind them, but staring straight at them – they could see her in the mirror in front of them, like a pale spectre against the darkness, warped and distorted. Beside him, Michael felt Gavin go completely stiff, letting out a low, keening noise like an animal in pain – the most genuine sound of fear he'd ever heard come out of another human.

He twisted his head around over his shoulder, but the duck wasn't there – there were too many mirrors around them, at too many different angles – he could see her in the reflections but not in real life and _Jesus Christ_ this was messing with his head.

“Move, move!” he hissed, starting forward, and Gavin jolted into motion.

They ran.

His chest felt like it was on fire but Michael forced himself into something approaching a jog, hobbling as fast as he could with Gavin's help.

They hit a dead end. Turned around to find the duck gone from half the mirrors but approaching from the rest.

“There!” Gavin cried, suddenly – and Michael followed his gaze.

The beam of the duck's torch, reflecting off the surface of one of the mirrors, had illuminated the 'exit' sign on the wall. They had probably walked past it fifty times before, but it wasn't lit up due to the lack of power in the building, so they'd passed obliviously by.

Now they moved towards it, as fast as possible – Michael twisted back to look over his shoulder again and sucked in a breath as he saw the duck – the real duck – striding unhurriedly towards them.

“The door, the door,” he urged.

Gavin was fumbling with it – there was no visible handle – but after some pushing it swung open and they stumbled forth into the cool night air.

To find three mercenaries standing, staring at them.

Both of them skidded to a halt, stunned and horrified. The exit of the House of Mirrors opened into a wide courtyard space just behind another ride –some sort of tall contraption that looked like it involved a lot of wild spinning.

Cursing, Michael pulled his gun up, fumbling, but the three mercs already had their own weapons raised, and he froze, realising that they were cornered. While the duck had come in to hunt them down, the other soldiers must have moved to surround the building.

“Drop your weapon!” one of the men shouted.

Michael had no idea what to do.

_They're going to kill us_ , he thought – there was no doubt about that – beside him Gavin was oddly silent. He darted a glance at him to find that the colour had drained from his face. He was just standing, stricken, not even hyperventilating. Just... still, and something about that was more disturbing to Michael than if he'd been panicking. It was like he had gone into complete shut down, like he had given up hope and this was the only defence mechanism he could think of-

(And people didn't get like that for no reason – only when things like this had happened to them before – )

But there was no time to dwell on that now. The merc was still glaring at him.

“I said,” he repeated, “Drop your weapon.”

He shifted his aim towards Gavin instead, and Michael immediately lowered his gun, placing it on the ground slowly.

He heard movement behind him and turned to see the duck. She was even more horrifying up close. He could see _bits_ stuck in the mask – little pieces of gore, specks of blood and flesh. He wasn't sure who they were from. Previous victims? Or the mercenaries who'd died in the trip mine explosion? Either way it was horrifying, and he felt his breath catch.

The duck strode towards him, and Michael stood still, frozen, with no idea what to do-

With a swift, jerking motion, the duck smashed the butt of her gun across his face, sending him flying to the ground, skidding a few metres across the dirt. Pain exploded in the side of his face – he could taste blood – and he'd landed on his bad shoulder. For a moment he was blinded with agony, letting out a rasping cry.

“ _Michael_!”

Gavin had jerked back into action. He lunged forward as though to cover Michael's body with his own – a surprising act of bravery that Michael, through his swimming vision and the pain splitting through his head, could vaguely bring himself to appreciate.

The duck waved a hand and one of the mercenaries darted forward, grabbing Gavin and hauling him back, one elbow hooking around his throat in a tight chokehold, the other hand grabbing his wrist roughly, twisting his arm up behind his back.

The duck strode towards Michael, slowly, deliberately – those grotesque teeth leering down at him. Her booted foot came down hard on his shoulder, driving in the shard of shrapnel.

He might have screamed. He couldn't really tell anymore – couldn't register much aside from the _pain, pain, fucking_ pain-

When he managed to crack his eyes open, vision blurred with tears, it was to see the duck bringing her gun down to point square between his eyes.

He shut them again. And his heart was pounding now, so fast he could barely feel it – but a strange detachment took him over, an odd calmness, and all he could think – feeling _sad_ , somehow, rather than scared, was _fuck_ -

And,

_I'm sorry, Ray_.

And,

_I guess this is how it fucking ends_.

 

* * *

 

Jack and Ryan were running.

They had been running for a while, mostly in circles, because this theme park had a _fucking awful layout_ and the mercenaries chasing them kept looping around and cutting them off, forcing them back around the carousel again and again. They'd taken down a few of them, but in the dark, and split up from the rest of their group, and outnumbered as they were – it was difficult.

“There they are!” someone shouted, and a shot rang out only inches from Jack's left shoulder. Ryan's hand fisted in the sleeve of his jacket, tugging him out of the way.

“Over here,” he barked, jerking his head in a direction they had not taken before, mostly because they'd caught a glimpse of the duck going that way and had thought it prudent to avoid her while they were still being railed on by the rest of the soldiers.

Jack nodded, and they ran, ducking between two side shows and an abandoned burger stand. The number of buildings and bike racks they dodged around as they headed north through the park – towards what Jack vaguely recalled was the children's section – bought them a little time as the mercenaries struggled to follow, and soon the sound of shouting and shots behind them faded a little.

They ran up a short flight of stairs and emerged into what a faded sign loudly proclaimed to be “KIDS' ZONE”. Ryan strode forward and Jack followed him as they moved past a smaller carousel, a large stand where a bouncy castle used to be, and a set of giant tea cups before heading into a picnic area.

Ryan sat down at one of the tables and checked the clip of his gun. There was a blessed moment of silence, and Jack took the chance to catch his breath.

“You okay?” he said then. He hadn't had the chance to ask before, and while he himself was fine – a little shaky still from the shock of the explosion, but physically unharmed – he'd been farthest from the blast and had ducked away from the debris quickly. Ryan was the only other one of their group he'd been able to find in the aftermath.

Ryan looked up at him. Jack couldn't tell what he was thinking behind the mask, but he gave a nod.

“I'm fine.” There was something odd to his voice, though. It was trembling a little, and that was uncharacteristic enough that Jack frowned, concerned.

“You got enough ammo?” he asked then, and Ryan nodded, snapping the clip back into place.

“I'm good. Let's go.”

“Ryan, wait.” Jack glanced over his shoulder, but nothing emerged from the darkness yet. “We head back now we'll be walking right into them. We need to wait here for a bit, let them pass by or take them out when they come to us. Otherwise we're dead.” It was fairly obvious – it'd be a rookie's error to go back now, and he was surprised Ryan had suggested it. “Did you hit your head?”

The blank mask turned to him with what Jack was _sure_ was a withering look. “No, I didn't hit my _fucking head_ , but the others are out there somewhere and the longer we fucking sit around here-”

It hit Jack, then. He could have laughed, out of hysteria more than anything else.

“You're worried about them.”

“No,” Ryan snapped immediately – but it was too late, Jack had seen him tense.

He wasn't sure if he wanted to laugh or cry more – and settled for sitting down at the picnic table. Ryan remained standing, arms folded tight across his chest, staring resolutely up at the dark sky. Jack looked at him, trying to work things out.

Somehow, somewhere along the line, they'd broken through Ryan's armour. He wasn't quite sure exactly when – or exactly _how_ – or whether it had been himself who'd done it, or Ray, or Gavin – but somehow, it had happened.

Ryan was barely even making an effort to deny it anymore, or at least not any sort of convincing one. And Jack knew – because Geoff had told him – that he was working things out for himself. Coming to terms with it, because apparently that was something he needed to do – apparently something bad enough had happened to scar him from ever wanting to get close to anyone.

Jack had worked out the gist of it. Edgar, his old team.

But _they_ were a team now, no matter what Ryan wanted. And Jack wasn't quite sure what had happened after he rescued Gavin, because after he recovered he couldn't actually remember much that had occurred under the haze of the fever – it was all a bit of a blur, vague memories mixed with dreams until he wasn't quite sure what had been real and what hadn't – he remembered Ryan's firm hands holding him upright in the heat and mist of the shower spray. He remembered how close they had been standing, how Ryan's movements had been gentle even if efficient and clinical, and how the fact that they hadn't spoken at all the entire time had been more telling than anything they could have said.

And later on – he had a dim recollection of Ryan's cool, dry hand against his forehead. Of them talking – about what he didn't know – but what he did know was that after that, things had shifted between them somehow. Like Ryan wasn't putting up as many walls around him – almost as though he wanted Jack to like him.

When he asked Ryan, back at the motor inn, why he hated Edgar so much, he'd expected to be shot down instantly.

But he hadn't been, and that was some major fucking progress, and he didn't know _why_ he wanted to get through to Ryan so much. Why it mattered to him that the other man should like him, should like Geoff – should _trust_ them.

“It's okay,” he said, now. “I'm worried about them too. And we'll go back, but we're no use to them dead.” It was some odd role reversal, because he was pretty sure normally Ryan would be the rational one and he would be the one raring to go back to find Geoff as soon as possible.

And there was a sick worry in the pit of his stomach – not just for Geoff, for the lads too – but a calm rationality had taken him over at the same time.

Ryan fidgeted a bit. He didn't seem to quite know what to say, so settled for saying nothing. After a minute, though, he slowly sat down next to Jack.

There was a moment of silence.

“You know we've lost people,” Jack said. He wasn't sure what compelled him to say it, but he saw Ryan stiffen a little. The other man wasn't looking at him, but Jack knew he was listening, so he continued.

“Our crew. Geoff and I. Some we were close to. You can't... it's unavoidable, in this business. But that doesn't stop us from still getting close to the people we work with. I guess it's motivation, in a way. You don't care about anyone, you end up like – like Edgar, I suppose. But I don't need to tell you this. You know that.”

Ryan still did not speak. Jack wasn't sure what he'd expected him to say.

“But now that we've been split up,” he added, “I think Geoff would be glad to know that _you're_ with me.”

_That_ got Ryan's attention; he tilted his head towards Jack. The dull, faint light of the moon, filtering weakly between the clouds, caught his eyes eerily behind the mask.

“I respect you, Jack,” he said then. “Geoff too. We're in this together.”

“I respect a lot of people,” Jack replied, “But I don't consider all of them _friends_.”

“We're not-” Ryan started, almost automatically – but caught himself. And Jack stared at him, patiently, until Ryan's shoulders slumped a little and he ground out – somewhat reluctantly, “Well, I suppose we are.”

“Never thought I'd get _that_ out of you,” Jack chuckled, and Ryan swatted at him, though there was no malice in it.

“Only took us being trapped together surrounded by people who want to kill us,” he pointed out, and Jack shrugged.

“I'll still take it.”

Ryan scoffed out something that might have been a laugh. Before they could talk further, however, the faint sound of the mercenaries approaching had them rising, guns at the ready.

“We should hide,” Ryan said, abruptly. “Let them pass through and then follow them, take them out from behind. It sounds like there's a bunch – that's easier than making a stand for it here.”

“Okay,” Jack said, deferring to his judgement – he was the one with the hundred percent success rate after all.

Ryan cast about, then strode off through the kids' zone, Jack following him, until they reached a colourfully painted bathroom block. Jack raised an eyebrow at the rather garish pictures of cartoon dinosaurs adorning it – they were sort of terrifying and looked a bit sinister, to be honest – maybe because the paint had chipped and cracked away, leaving most of them without pupils, or just because Edgar had put him off any sort of anthropomorphic creatures. But there was a gap between the bathroom and the building next to it – some sort of long-dead electrical box – and Ryan squeezed between them.

Jack hesitated, unsure both of them would fit – but the torches were approaching and he had little choice.

It was a tight squeeze and there was little room in the crevice. He found himself pressed right up against Ryan – and by right up, he meant _right up_ , the entire length of the other man's body laid close against his side so he could feel the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. Both of them stiffened a little awkwardly, but they were forced to hold completely still as the sound of the men drew nearer.

Even so, Jack was distracted; it suddenly struck him that Ryan didn't, well, touch people much, at least not when it wasn't necessary. Which made sense, he supposed, any mercenary would be the same – but even with Michael and Ray they would not hesitate to put an arm around each other, or Gavin, whereas with Ryan touches never lingered longer than the necessary time span. When he was helping Jack back to the car after he'd nearly drowned, or in the shower – that had been different, and Jack couldn't quite remember it, but suddenly he was caught up in the sheer novelty of this – of the hard bunch of the muscles in Ryan's arm, tense against his shoulder – the slight warmth of his leg against Jack's own. He stared straight ahead, something like shyness suddenly spreading through his stomach, not quite willing to turn and meet Ryan's eyes. He had a sudden suspicion that might lead to something awkward.

The mercs hunted around for a bit, but their hiding spot was a good one, and they passed by. As soon as it was safe Jack pulled away, squeezing back out of the gap, and Ryan followed.

“Let's get them, then,” Ryan said, and Jack nodded.

There had been a half dozen mercenaries and they were heading back down the stairs now, giving the two of them the advantage of the high ground as they emerged from the darkness and gunned them down quickly. Jack took down two, Ryan the other four, with a speed that astounded him – he'd seen him in action since they began working, sure, but it was still a little shocking to observe the sheer skill with which he – well, killed people.

“That's six problems off our hands, then,” Ryan muttered, checking his clip again.

Before Jack could reply, a sudden loud noise from across the park made both of them flinch.

“What the _fuck_ was that?” Ryan snapped, and Jack straightened up a bit, having jumped quite violently at the shock.

“It sounded like an explosion,” he replied, worry creeping up on him again.

Ryan let out a hiss of breath. “Michael?”

“Maybe. Let's check it out.”

Jack craned his neck to try and see where the explosion might have come from, but to no avail; there were too many buildings and rides in the way. They began to make their way around the edge of the park, when lights ahead of them had them drawing back, hoping to hide again and take out whoever it was.

Four more mercs, patrolling – talking amongst themselves, but too quietly for them to hear what was going on.

They were about to attack when suddenly two of the mercenaries dropped to the ground as the crack of a rifle split the night air. The other two turned, surprised – Ryan took one of them out from behind, and another rifle shot the other.

“Ray,” Jack said, immediately – and Ryan turned to him, giving a curt nod.

“He must be up there somewhere...” he turned, scanning the buildings around them, before his eyes fell on the ferris wheel. “Fuck. Smart kid; that's a high point no one can really get up to attack you.”

“Maybe the others are with him,” Jack said, suddenly – “That explosion could have been something else. If we go there now and the others are all actually up on the wheel, we'll be walking into a trap.”

“Or it could just be Ray, and the others might be in trouble,” Ryan pointed out.

They stared at each other uncomfortably for a moment, the only real solution to their problem obvious but unwanted.

“We'll have to split up,” Jack said then, decidedly. “”You go find Ray. Take whoever's with him to me; I'll be at that building.”

“Jack,” Ryan said, catching his arm as he turned away. Jack paused, looking down at the grip on his sleeve, but Ryan didn't let go. “It's safer where Ray is. I'll go check out the fire.”

“Ryan.” Jack couldn't help but smile gently, endeared by the other's concern for his safety – and the complete lack of any attempt to hide it. “If you think there's any way I'm climbing up a fucking ferris wheel in the middle of the night...”

Ryan scoffed a little. He let him go, though. “Fair point. Be careful,” he added, something very serious in his tone, and Jack nodded.

“Same goes for you.”

Something uneasy crept down his spine as he watched Ryan turn and walk off towards the ferris wheel; he suddenly felt very alone standing there in the park. But there was little time to waste, so he turned and continued to make his way towards the source of the noise and commotion.

It didn't take him long to find. In the dark of the night any sort of light showed up, and the small fire that was burning at the side entrance to the House of Mirrors drew him like a beacon.

Some sort of small blast had gone off just inside the entranceway; the curtains hanging on the walls of the passage were burning and the bodies of three mercenaries lay strewn around it.

_Definitely Michael's doing_ , Jack thought, a faint sort of pride creeping into him. At least one of the others was still alive, then – two if they assumed Ray.

He was hit with a sudden pang of concern for Gavin, which he supposed was natural – wondered if he was safely away with Ray. Or lost and alone out there somewhere, probably terrified out of his mind – or safe with Geoff as they had planned -

_Or dead_ , something whispered in the back of his mind. And the thought of _that_ was suddenly so terrible to him that he couldn't bear to dwell on it, shoving it away with force.

_No. He's not. Don't fucking think like that_.

He straightened up and stared into the darkness of the mirror maze, wondering if the others were in there somewhere – when a great shouting and commotion caught his attention, and he turned. It was coming from around the back of the building, and he made his way there cautiously, keeping his back to the wall and staying in the shadows.

Peering around the side of the wall into the courtyard behind the building – he froze.

Three mercenaries stood, Gavin struggling in the grasp of one of them. Michael was on the ground – he wasn't moving, flat on his back, and Jack's heart stopped for a minute until he saw the other's chest rising and falling, dragging in harsh breaths – and the duck, that God awful duck, was striding towards him, gun raised – as he watched she rose up over him, bringing one booted foot down to tread heavily on his shoulder.

The bloodcurdling scream Michael let out at that made Jack feel _sick_. A blind rage overtook him, and even as he saw the duck swing her gun down to point at Michael's head, he was already raising his own weapon, firing off two shots.

They both caught the duck in the chest and she was thrown backwards from the force of it. Even now, though, Jack could see that she was wearing a kevlar vest, that she might be down but she certainly wasn't out. He was already moving forward, gun swinging up to shoot another of the mercenaries. He missed a couple of times but in the hail of bullets that followed one of them managed to fall.

The duck was already getting up, though, and all Jack could think to do was throw himself at her, tackling her back down. His gun skidded from his hand but he managed to knock her weapon away as well, swinging one foot out to kick it away across the ground as the two of them wrestled, trying to pin each other down.

The strength of the woman was unholy. As they rolled over and over, struggling to come out on top, Jack was hard pressed to keep his grip on her, even as knees and elbows rained into him.

In the corner of his eye he saw Gavin manage to jerk himself free of the grip of the man holding him, only to be grabbed again immediately and thrown to the ground. The mercenary bore down on him, weapon raised, and for a moment Jack's heart nearly stopped -

The duck's fist made contact with his face, sending him sprawling sideways, but all he see look at was _Gavin_ -

Gavin who had suddenly pulled a knife out of his jacket – which _what the fuck_ , Jack hadn't even known he'd been carrying a weapon – and with one clumsy slash brought it across the shins of the man looming above him.

The mercenary howled, stumbling sideways – it had been an inelegant blow but there was force behind it, and he was bleeding heavily. Seeming at a loss for what to do next, Gavin scrambled backwards, still clutching the weapon – but the next thing Jack knew, shots were ringing out and the last two mercenaries standing dropped to the ground under a rain of bullets.

He glanced across to see Michael, sitting half-upright, holding the gun Jack had dropped earlier.

Before Jack could register more, a strong grip was in the front of his shirt, hauling him upright. The duck threw him backwards across the ground and he gasped as the wind was knocked out of him. She turned away, striding towards her gun – but he scrambled to his feet and he pelted after her, tackling her to the ground from behind again.

They'd fallen away from the other two and Jack, now dismally unarmed, was focused on pummelling her with his fists, trying to aim for the throat, the groin, the solar plexus – anywhere that would immobilise – but the body armour she was wearing rendered his blows mostly useless. He was thrown off again but they both got to their feet at the same time, facing off.

Jack had never been a huge fan of unarmed combat or even knife fighting; in general he preferred long range weapons, often sniper rifles. But he knew he had height and weight behind him – even if he was panting harshly now, even if he was already bruised and battered – and with a wild roar he charged the duck and barrelled into her, the force of it knocking her back against the wall of the nearest building.

He grabbed the edge of the duck mask, trying to pull it up and over her head - maybe he could go for the eyes, the throat – but with an almost impossibly strong grip she ripped his hands away and kicked him in the stomach, knocking the breath from him again. Within seconds she had wrenched herself from his grasp and slammed him face-first into the same wall.

He felt something snap and a gush of blood flowed from his nose into his mouth; metallic and salty, choking him as he spluttered and coughed it out.

And then there were hands around his throat, a vicelike leather grip crushing his windpipe, squeezing the air from his lungs.

Spots danced before his vision as he struggled for breath, and in a final desperate lunge he brought his leg up and kicked the duck in the stomach with all the force he could muster.

It was enough.

She stumbled back and he grabbed the front of her vest and threw her bodily sideways. She crashed into something and there was a terrible, terrible cracking noise.

Both of them froze, looking up.

Jack hadn't realised it, but their fight had brought them right into the enclosure of the ride opposite the House of Mirrors. The entire theme park was old, abandoned, eaten away by rust and rot – but this ride in particular was run down as all hell, not to mention it had been old fashioned in the first place; he could practically smell the decomposition in the wood and the corrosion in the metal. The force with which he'd thrown the duck against part of the ride had, it seemed, been too much for it.

The carriages in which people once sat were poised at the top of a steep, curved track that looped up at each end like a half-pipe. Attached to a metal arm on top of a large tower in the centre of the ride space, they would presumably swing back and forth along the track before eventually taking off from it in a pendulum like motion that would traumatise fairgoers with weak stomachs forever.

But now the metal arm had snapped under the force of the duck's body slamming into the frame, which was already falling apart.

For a moment the sheer amount of rust seemed to hold the carriages up, with an assortment of terrible creaking, groaning noises.

But then gravity won out. With a snapping pop the frontmost carriage detached from the rest and began barrelling down the track towards them.

The idea hit Jack in an instant.

He lunged forward, ramming his shoulder into the duck's chest and sending her stumbling backwards to fall across the tracks. Even as she tried to rise he leaped forward, struggling to pin her down as she thrashed.

The carriage rolled ever closer and Jack reared back, making sure he was out of the way – one hand still out, gripping the front of the duck's vest, holding her down until-

With a horrible, horrible wet _crunch_ the carriage crushed the duck's head, faltering to a halt at the loss of momentum and leaving a spray of blood in its wake. Jack flinched as he fell back, squeezing his eyes shut, and felt hot liquid spatter over his face.

_Oh, dear fucking God_.

For a moment he sat, panting heavily. There was still blood running from his nose, streaming over his face warm and sticky, and when he tried to breathe in he choked. He coughed a few times, reaching up to try and stem the flow with his sleeve, taking a moment to just register that it was over. That she was dead.

It wasn't until he heard a loud “ _Fuck_ ,” from behind him that he jerked back to the present, and opened his eyes.

Even in the dark he could see how much blood there was; dark splashes on the concrete ground ahead of him. Some mad, paranoid part of himself vaguely considered that he should check the body – make sure she really was dead – but he couldn't bring himself to move closer.

_No one could survive that_. His heart was still racing, struggling to process what had just happened.

He turned back towards the others to find Michael staring at him, eyes like saucers. Gavin was crouched next to him and Michael had one arm wrapped around his head, hand clapped firmly over his eyes.

“Michael,” Gavin groaned, tugging at his wrist.

“I'm telling you, man, you don't want to look. You'll fucking throw up for sure,” Michael said, but let him go. Gavin seemed to have taken the advice to heart, though, because he didn't turn in Jack's direction; just rocked back to sit on the ground.

Michael looked up at Jack and gave a half-grin. His teeth were stained with blood.

“That was, uh. _Interesting_.”

“Interesting in the worst kind of way,” Jack huffed, marching over to them.

“Her head just, like. I don't know. Like stepping on a grape.”

“Don't say that, Michael, I like grapes,” Gavin spluttered. “You'll put me off.”

“Yeah, well, just be happy the bitch is dead,” Michael replied. He shifted where he sat and grimaced.

Jack had reached his side by now, crouching before him. There was a hell of a bruise blooming across Michael's face, and even in the dim light he looked paler than Jack liked. Dark blood was spreading from his shoulder, and when Jack reached out to move his jacket he flinched back, tensing.

“There's, like, shit stuck in there,” Michael said, voice tight. “Maybe don't touch it 'till we get back to... wherever.”

“Okay,” Jack replied. “Can you walk?”

“My ribs are fucked up but yeah, I think so.”

“Let me see?” He lifted Michael's shirt and hissed in sympathy; bruises so dark they were almost black were streaked across his stomach. Hopefully nothing was broken or cracked in there, but it looked like it hurt a hell of a lot and while Michael was a tough cookie, Jack could see how tense he was, the way he was trembling lightly and biting his lip.

He let the shirt fall. And as the adrenaline faded away, an overwhelming surge of relief hit him, because they were _alive_ – and the duck was dead – but the sight of Michael's injuries had an odd feeling stirring in his stomach. Something nauseous in how strong it was. Protectiveness, maybe – or anger, because Michael shouldn't be hurt – shouldn't be shaking in pain, it wasn't – it wasn't _right_ , and suddenly Jack wanted to do anything, _anything_ to make it go away.

_Geoff is still unaccounted for_ , he realised – but forced himself not to think about that.

“Gavin? You okay?” he asked, looking up.

Gavin glanced up from where he was sitting. He was shaking too, but it wasn't from pain; he appeared relatively unharmed as he gave a quick, jerking nod.

“Yeah, 'm fine.” The quick smile he gave wasn't entirely fake, and Jack smiled back, relieved. It seemed the majority of the other's issues stemmed from being left alone rather than anything else. _Thank God he and Michael ended up together._

“Jack!” a voice behind him called.

He turned to see Ryan – and behind him, two figures – and could have slumped over in relief.

“Jack.” Geoff ran to him and Jack rose. They met in a crushing embrace, hugging one another tightly. Jack bent his head to press his lips to the other's hair, his forehead, his lips, frantically like the contact would give him life.

And it never _stopped_ – the fear, on missions. It was never any less of a relief each time they all came back alive.

_And the duck is dead._

_And we're_ all _alive_.

And suddenly – suddenly the oddest urge overcame him, because Geoff was safe in his arms, solid and warm and breathing and _there_ , and Ray was standing a little way nearby, heading quickly to Michael's side – suddenly Jack was struck with the desire to reach out to him too. To turn back to Michael and Gavin and pull them into his arms as well.

He shoved it away as silliness, as nerves, and stepped back away from Geoff.

“Alright?” Geoff asked, looking up at him with concern, and Jack nodded.

“Yeah. Killed the duck.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Jack.” And that was Ryan – sounding _impressed_ more than anything else as he strode over to look. “You really fucking _killed that duck_. Fuck. That's overkill if I ever saw it.”

“Don't look, Gav,” Ray said immediately, having noticed what happened, and Gavin scoffed out a laugh.

“I won't. Seen enough of things like that, thanks.” There was something almost bitter in his tone, but it passed so quickly that Jack couldn't be sure if he'd imagined it.

The lads had congregated together, Ray fussing over Michael's wounds, and Geoff looked about to head over to join them when Ryan strode back over to them and pulled the two older men aside.

“With that duck dead, the rest of these mercs will be disorganised,” he said. “Ray's taken down enough by now that there's only a couple left. We should still destroy the ordnance so Edgar can't use it.”

“Michael's in no state to go traipsing around here trying to explode things,” Jack said, and Ryan nodded.

“I know. I can do it, if he tells me where he left the rest of his stuff. I might not have his expertise but I know how to work a basic bomb.”

“Ray can help,” Michael piped up – they turned to find he'd been listening in.

Ray, with his hands hovering over Michael's shoulder, froze. “What?”

“You go with Ryan,” Michael told him. “You've helped me do it enough times before. The bag's back in the mirror maze,” he added.

“No fucking way, I'm not leaving you,” Ray snapped – something tetchy in his tone that Jack couldn't quite bring himself to be annoyed at, because if it was Geoff sitting there looking beat to all hell he knew he'd be the same-

(And he _was_ the same now, of a sort – he didn't want to leave Michael either and he didn't know why, just that having the other man in his sight made him feel less anxious and _okay, what's going on here-_ )

“Ryan needs you,” Michael said, staring at him earnestly. Ray stared back – then his gaze darted to Ryan.

“Okay,” he said quietly. He started to get up, hesitated, then sat back down and kissed Michael on the lips gently. Despite the fact that they'd kissed in front of the others before – visibly and even obnoxiously – there was something self-conscious in it now, and Ray didn't look at the rest of them when he got up and headed for the mirror maze.

“We'll head back to the cars then. Where we gonna meet?” Geoff asked, watching Ray go with something like a frown.

“We can't go far tonight. Michael needs to stop and rest,” Ryan said.

It was Gavin who spoke up.

“The lighthouse,” he said. “It's not in operation any more. Shouldn't be anyone there.”

“As good a place as any,” Ryan shrugged. “I'll see you all later.”

He started to leave, then stopped. Walked back towards the ride and stared down at the duck again before letting out a long, low whistle.

“Damn, Jack,” he said again, still sounding somewhat flabbergasted.

Jack laughed, a short, hysterical sort of bark. He got the feeling Ryan was _grinning_ at him as he walked back– and then, to his complete surprise, the other man reached out and briefly patted his shoulder as he passed by, a casual sort of touch that Jack hadn't expected. His laugh faded away but Ryan was already leaving, heading off after Ray.

“You really got yourself banged up,” Geoff said, having moved over to Michael by now.

“And not by Ray,” Michael muttered, almost automatically, “But not for his lack of trying.”

Geoff rolled his eyes. “I don't know if I want to know what that means or not, but okay. Let's get you up.” He leaned forward and pulled Michael to his feet, as gently as possible. “Careful – careful now. You okay?”

“I'm good.” Michael swayed a bit, holding onto the other's shoulders to keep himself upright.

There was something about the look on Geoff's face, a fierce sort of concern, that suddenly pulled Jack's attention.

_He feels it too_. It only took one look at his boyfriend's face to know that, like Jack, his worry over this stretched a little beyond the level of 'friend'. Because Jack had seen Caleb injured a hundred times before, and other members of their crew in the line of duty – but never, never had it wormed away at him this badly.

_I only feel like this when things happen to Geoff_.

He bit his lip.

And it was Ray's voice in his head now, _if you think you could love two people, if the potential is there..._ The nervous sort of horror in the other's tone had tugged at something in him. He wished, now, that he'd reacted more calmly, but he'd been shocked. Not in a bad way, just – surprised.

But shit, suddenly he remembered the conversation he'd had with Geoff about Griffon.

And it was as Ray had said. _If the_ potential _is there_.

That's all it was at the moment – _potential_ – potential in the way that he saw Michael reach out to brush dust from Gavin's hair as he limped past him. Potential in how Geoff noticed Gavin too and grinned at him, wide and silly and trying to make him smile. Potential in the protective curl of Geoff's hand around Michael's waist as he held him up.

And even that – even that started a nervous thrum low in Jack's stomach, the same way he'd felt that night with Geoff; Gavin sandwiched between them.

He let out a low curse under his breath, not quite ready to dwell on what that could mean yet – and then jumped when Gavin popped up next to him, seemingly out of nowhere.

“Hi,” Gavin said, looking a bit confused – and Jack stared at him for a moment before realising that Michael and Geoff were already halfway across the courtyard by now, despite their slow pace. He shook himself and started to walk after them, Gavin hanging back behind with him.

“Everything alright?” Jack asked – and he wasn't just inquiring about his physical health. Gavin picked up on that quickly and hesitated before giving a slow nod.

“I'm okay,” he said. And then paused, frowning, staring at Jack, who drew to a halt as well.

“There's blood all up in your beard,” Gavin said.

There was – he could feel it, sticky and starting to dry. It was disgusting but he didn't know what he could do about it – until Gavin produced a small, rather crushed plastic bottle of water from his jacket. He dragged the sleeve of his hoodie down over his hand, wet it and then reached up to scrub at the blood on Jack's face.

Jack squirmed at first before holding still. After a moment he started laughing quietly and had no idea why; there was something awkward in it, something a little flustered, and Gavin grinned before chuckling a bit too.

“Thanks,” Jack said, as he pulled away, feeling marginally cleaner. Gavin's smile turned softer, sweeter for a moment before he looked away.

“Can't have mingin' bits of stuff all over your face, can we? Or you'll look like bloody Mr Twit.”

Jack scoffed out a laugh. And Geoff and Michael were still walking up ahead of them, pressed close together with Geoff holding the other man up. Suddenly he was acutely aware of the distance between he and Gavin as they followed – it wasn't much, they were walking side by side but not touching – and on a sudden impulse he reached out, wrapped his arm around Gavin's shoulder and tugged him closer into his side.

Gavin let out a muffled noise, seeming surprised at first, but he quickly leaned into Jack, because apparently he was stupid levels of tactile and _that should not be as endearing as it was, Jesus Christ_...

And they didn't speak, but Gavin didn't pull away, and as Jack had thought before – there was something a little too comforting about the contact with the other man.

They continued on.


	15. Chapter 15

Ryan was probably the number one person Ray wanted to be around right now.

Like, _genuinely_. Because Jack – oh God, he didn't think he could face Jack yet – even despite what Geoff had said, Ray couldn't stop thinking about the shock on the other man's face when he'd talked to him last. And Geoff was fine on his own, but Geoff-and-Jack together would probably want to talk to him, make him discuss his feelings even further, so. No go there.

Gavin and Michael he simultaneously wanted to be around and wanted to be as _fucking far from as possible_ – because God, the sight of Michael sitting there, bloody and bruised – he'd felt sick, felt his stomach drop, and then he saw Gavin crouched next to him and thought _fuck_ because if he could barely handle one person he liked – loved – being in danger, then the risk of _two_... it made him suddenly more terrified than he'd ever been in his entire life. And he wanted to be close to them, to never leave either of them again, to protect them – but at the same time he needed time away, to sort his thoughts out until he could look at Gavin without feeling awkward and Michael without feeling ashamed.

And Ryan – Ryan wouldn't ask him about it.

Ryan was the best person in the world for Ray to be with at this moment because with the mask on Ray didn't have to look at his face and fear seeing judgement there. Ryan slipped into professionalism with ease and it prompted Ray to be professional too. To shove everything from his mind but _the job_ and let himself slip into the routine of work, the zone – to get his mind off everything else.

And Ryan _must_ have noticed, because Ray knew he was smart like that, that there was something going on with him, but he didn't ask, didn't push, and Ray was suddenly and absurdly grateful to him for it.

They worked together in silence, but seamlessly – and both of them were good at that, at buckling down and moving in quiet tandem, the way they had when tracking down Clarence G – and it wasn't until they had taken out the last of the mercs and blown up the building and were watching Edgar's ammunition stores burn down from a safe distance away that Ryan finally turned to him and said, quite genuinely, “Nice job.”

“Thanks,” Ray replied.

“I mean it,” Ryan said. “Your sniping earlier– we might've been done for without that backup.”

“Thanks,” Ray repeated – but it came out softer, more sincerely, because he couldn't help feeling a little thrill, oddly _pleased_ at Ryan's compliment. The fact that the older man was just so skilled himself was something of a novelty to Ray; he'd never had any sort of particular mentor figure before. And fuck, Ryan wasn't really a mentor – would probably balk at the word – but there was something there, some intrinsic desire for approval that Ray had never really felt before but did now with a force that startled him.

“Also,” Ryan said – and didn't look at him this time, his gaze trained on the fire, “Good job teaching Gavin at least some basic self defence. We all probably should have done that earlier.”

The mention of Gavin made Ray stiffen.

Because the fact that Ryan wasn't looking at him – and the way Michael had been oddly stilted around the man since that second night out on the road – he hadn't told Ray anything about why, but suddenly he realised. Michael had spilled the fucking beans. Ryan knew that he knew what had happened with Gavin.

 _Oh, God_. Were they going to talk about it? Ray did not want to fucking talk about it-

And it hit him, then, that the reason he was so awkward about the topic might be because subconsciously, even before now – he had wanted Gavin, he didn't like the thought of him being with anyone else-

_That's not it._

That wasn't fucking it, that wasn't the whole story – oh God, oh God _no_ , he realised with dawning horror – it wasn't just Gavin. It was Ryan too.

He didn't just dislike that Ryan had been kissing Gavin, he disliked that _Gavin had been kissing Ryan_ – not just because it took Gavin out of his reach but Ryan too, _he didn't want Ryan to be unavailable_ , oh Jesus Christ _no_ was _one not fucking enough_ -

And that was the moment where he sort of went into total shutdown, because Gavin was already too much for his brain to handle. Adding anything else was just _nope_.

“Ray?” Ryan prompted – something edgy to his voice, and Ray quickly realised that he may have misconstrued his silence as him about to bring up what had happened.

“We should've,” he replied then, distractedly, only half-remembering what they'd even been talking about. “If we're gonna bring him into the field like this he needs to know how to take care of himself. Shit goes wrong.”

Ryan nodded, and Ray found that he couldn't meet his eyes now, and they left the fairground in silence.

 

* * *

 

The lighthouse sat at the end of a gravelly road some distance up the cliffs; a pale beacon against the dark night. It was impressive from afar, but as they got closer Ray noticed just how rundown it looked. The white paint was cracked and peeling, it was surrounded by weeds and scattered rubbish, and while the building itself was intact, two small boat sheds beside it were rotting away and falling to pieces.

The others' car was parked outside and from within the lighthouse came the glow of lamplight. Ray and Ryan parked and Ray got out, heading for the door, but Ryan began to stride off into the night and Ray called after him, confused.

“Where are you going?”

“Looking around,” Ryan threw back over his shoulder. “Checking the perimeter. Making sure there isn't another direction someone could sneak up on us from.”

“You need a hand?” Ray asked, but Ryan shook his head.

“No. Go see Michael.”

Ray nodded, and watched him disappear into the night before heading inside.

He had never been in a lighthouse before, and wasn't quite sure what he had imagined to be inside. As it was, there was... well, nothing. Just a winding spiral staircase inside a circular room – if he craned his neck and looked up he just saw stairs and more stairs, the occasional landing and finally, high up above, the floor of the lamp room.

But there was no furniture – it seemed vagrants had set into the building some time ago but since left. A rotting mattress, a pile of trash, an overturned shopping cart and some plastic crates were all they'd left in their wake. Michael was sitting on one of the crates, Jack leaning over him, his arm moving back and forth – sewing, Ray realised vaguely – Gavin was atop another, chewing on a muesli bar. They'd brought in all the portable lamps from the car and the room glowed with a dull yellow light; still dim but more than enough to see by.

At his entrance they all looked up – Geoff raising his gun slightly from where he'd been standing, watching the door, but he relaxed quickly when he realised it was Ray.

“All done?” he asked, and Ray nodded.

“Blew all that ordnance to shit. And took out all the other mercs. Ryan's out there now just scanning the place, making sure no one's gonna sneak up on us.”

Geoff nodded, and Ray crossed over to Michael, who looked up at him and gave him a tired grin, teeth clenched a little with pain. Jack had cleaned him up, Ray realised then; nearly all of the blood was gone and the wound on his shoulder was neatly stitched up, Jack leaning forward to snip off the thread. Michael looked pale from the blood loss, the dark bruises on his face and ribs standing out even more against his skin – but he didn't seem about to drop dead, which was a plus.

“You break anything?” Ray asked, and Michael shook his head.

“My ribs are bruised to high heaven but nothing's cracked, so. We got out lucky.” He nodded at his shoulder, which looked a little better, though field stitches were always a bit clumsy. “Pulling that shrapnel out hurt like a bitch, though-”

Across the room Gavin made a loud retching noise, and Ray glanced at him and then scoffed a bit when he realised he must have been privy to the extraction process. He started to smile but then caught himself and turned back to Michael, who raised his eyebrows curiously but didn't comment.

“Anyway,” Michael continued, “Bit of sleep and I'll be fine. You know me. Take a licking and keep on ticking and all that.”

“You okay, Ray?” Jack asked, turning to him. There was a plaster across the bridge of his nose and he moved stiffly, as though sore himself, but otherwise he too seemed alright, and Ray was caught again by just how _lucky_ they'd all been. “Better clean up that scrape on your head before you get infected.”

“I can do it myself,” Ray assured him, reaching out to take the first aid kit from his hands. “You go rest.”

Jack nodded, and then he and Geoff started climbing the stairs, presumably to check out what was in the lamp room. Ray sat on the floor and set about tearing open an antiseptic wipe, and as he watched Michael got up and walked over to Gavin, who happened to be sitting by their food bag.

“Feeling better now, Michael?” Gavin asked, reaching out to grab a bar for him so he wouldn't have to bend over.

“Sure,” Michael replied, and then paused behind where Gavin was sitting. Gavin turned, twisting his neck to look up at him expectantly, and Ray watched as Michael stood staring at the other man, looking very thoughtful.

“Michael?” Gavin prompted – and then squeaked in surprise when Michael leaned forward and pulled him into a clumsy hug, mindful of his wounded shoulder. “I- okay.”

“I saw you try and defend me from that duck,” Michael said. There was something oddly sincere in his voice, something that made Ray freeze. “And I know you were scared as fuck that whole time and holding it back for me, so. Proud of you, boi.”

Gavin looked very surprised, but after a moment his arms came up and he hugged Michael back, gently. And there was something very affectionate in Michael's face when he pulled back, something he quickly seemed embarrassed by as he seemed to feel the need to negate it immediately by hooking his arm around Gavin's neck – still gently, so as not to startle him – and giving him a noogie.

Ray turned away, hissing as he accidentally pressed too hard on the graze on his head.

The sight of the two of them interacting like that had set his heart beating faster. He didn't know if he was imagining the tenderness in the way Michael's hand trailed back across Gavin's shoulder when he let him go, or the fond, almost shy way Gavin looked up at him from under his dishevelled hair as he watched him walk back across the room – didn't know if he was, was _projecting_ or what fucking ever. If he just wanted to get his hopes up that _maybe this could work? Maybe Michael... maybe Gavin.... maybe this can be a thing_.

The door opening made him jump, hand going to his gun, but it was just Ryan who entered.

“All clear out there,” he said, and Ray nodded, shoulders slumping in relief.

Michael and Ryan made possibly the most awkward eye contact Ray had ever seen, and he wondered again just what had happened between them. But he fancied Ryan relaxed a little when he noticed that Michael had been patched up a bit.

“You good to travel by tomorrow?” he asked brusquely, and Michael nodded.

“Fine,” he replied, voice just as terse.

Ryan nodded. And then crossed over to Gavin, who looked up at him with a small smile before handing over a knife, the blade dark with dried blood.

“Wait, you actually _used_ it?” Ryan demanded – Ray's own eyes widened, wondering what exactly had gone down in the fight against the duck – and Gavin nodded a bit sheepishly.

“Might've stabbed someone in the leg.”

“He took him down good,” Michael piped up, though he didn't look at Ryan as he said it.

“...took him down _well_ ,” Gavin muttered. Ray smiled a bit and Michael rolled his eyes.

“Shit, kid,” Ryan said, taking the knife back and reaching into his pocket for a cloth to wipe it down. “You want to hang onto this?”

“I think I'll be fine,” Gavin replied. “I have high hopes for not having to use it again, so.”

“Unrealistic expectations, but I will not fault you for the optimism,” Ryan murmured. And then, as he tucked the knife away, reached out and touched the top of Gavin's head lightly, pulling his hand away quickly afterwards as though the contact burned him. Gavin didn't react and Ray wasn't sure if anyone other than himself had even noticed, but suddenly his stomach was churning again because _okay_.

And he had been worried, when he walked in on them – that had been up there amongst his first reactions. Worry. That the two of them were making a big mistake – that Ryan was just using Gavin or that Gavin was pushing him too soon.

But watching them now – it was obvious that Ryan cared about him. And it was obvious that said care went beyond just friendship, even if Ryan hadn't realised it himself yet, or didn't want to – even if Gavin was oblivious to it.

Again that slightly sick, disappointed feeling overcame him. And he _knew_ that Ryan cared about him, too, but perhaps not in that same way – at least he'd never given any indication so – and suddenly that _hurt_ and it _shouldn't_ because _you have Michael, you have Michael, you have_ Michael.

“Ryan? That you?”

Geoff was coming down the stairs now, Jack right on his heels, and Ryan turned to them and gave a wave.

“We need to rest up here first,” Ryan said. “But after that, what's the plan?”

“Edgar just keeps getting the jump on us,” Geoff said, grimly. He moved to pull up more of the crates and they sat in a circle, intent and focused now. “He knew we were coming to that fairground. They had prepared for us.”

“It's Shadles,” Gavin piped up. “The tosser. He's been keeping eyes on us. Probably saw us approaching from the highway.”

“I know you can't find the pig easily, but could you track Shadles down?” Ryan asked.

Gavin grit his teeth. He looked more annoyed than Ray had ever seen him. With Shadles, he realised, it was personal.

“I can damn well try,” he said, and Geoff nodded approvingly.

“In the mean time,” he said, “We're going well. We've taken down Edgar's top mercenary. His locations guy. His moneymaker. And now his third _and_ fourth in command. He's got to be falling apart by now – the main one-up he has on us is sheer force of numbers. You guys have noticed that all his mercs are skilled, right?”

Ryan nodded. “Yeah – they aren't your run of the mill hired guns.”

“That's because he's importing them,” Geoff said. “I noticed it when Ray and I were taking down a couple. They're from interstate, maybe even international. That's how he has so many. What we need to do is cut him off at the source.”

Ray nodded, slowly – it made sense. “Michael and I mostly work with Burnie,” he said. “But I know when Burnie gets us long-distance jobs they're always through this other guy–”

“Heyman,” Geoff cut in – he'd heard of him. Used him a few times when he needed to find someone Burnie couldn't procure. “He's back near Achievement City. Never spoken to him face to face, though.”

“I don't think this is something we can do over the phone,” Ryan said drily. “A little... persuasion may be needed to get him to cut off Edgar's supply of men.”

“Back to AC then,” Geoff said, decisively. “And as we go, Gav, you work on Shadles.”

“Let's stay here for tonight, though,” Jack said. “Michael needs to rest – we all do. That lamp room is an amazing vantage point. We should be quite safe if we keep watch out.”

“The lightkeeper's cottage is a little way back behind the boat sheds,” Ryan said. “It looked like it was still in quite a good condition. There's a bed in there – Michael, you take that. Ray can go with you. The rest of us can stay in here; there's sleeping bags in the car, and I'm sure we've all slept in worse places anyway.”

Geoff nodded. “I'll take first watch.”

“I've got second,” Ryan said then.

Michael nodded and rose. He still winced a little at the motion, hand going to his ribs, but was able to limp to the door by himself – and Ray knew him well enough to not move to help, understanding that he probably wanted to regain a little independence after having to lean on the rest of them all night.

“Ray,” a voice said, behind him, and he turned to see Gavin. The others were heading back up the stairs or out to the cars.

“Yeah?” he asked, thinking Gavin needed something – but the other man just smiled.

“Just wanted to say goodnight.”

Ray felt terribly guilty suddenly, because now that he thought about it, he'd sort of been ignoring Gavin since they were all reunited at the fair. Had been avoiding looking at him or talking to him for fear that he'd – slip up, somehow, or that his feelings would get stronger and even more confused. He felt bad now for not even asking if the other was okay, for just assuming – especially since he'd been worried as fuck about him-

(And that hadn't helped, realising that as much as he was _terrified_ for Michael, he was just as scared for Gavin – couldn't get either of them out of his head-

But that meant nothing because he'd worried about Jack and Ryan too. More than he'd expected to, if he was honest. It meant _nothing_.)

He forced a smile back.

“Goodnight, Gavin,” he said – and tried not to flinch when Gavin reached out and touched his arm before turning to follow Geoff out to the cars.

 

* * *

 

The lightkeeper's cottage was a small stone house. It was not in quite as bad nick as the actual lighthouse, as the boat sheds and a standing of trees protected it from the worst of the seaside elements – but it had still fallen into some disrepair. It was mostly empty, anything usable having been taken by looters long ago.

Ray couldn't suppress a shiver as he walked in, thinking of how long it might have been since anyone actually lived in this building. He wasn't one to be frightened easily, but these long-abandoned parts of the countryside made him uneasy.

Michael was sitting in the bedroom when he entered, struggling to pull on his shirt. Ray dropped the bag he was carrying and put his torch on the nearby dresser, moving to help him.

“Thanks,” Michael said, only wincing a little as Ray helped manoeuvre his arms into the sleeves. “Bruised ribs fucking suck.”

“Be careful next time then,” Ray muttered, automatically, and Michael rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, next time I'll fucking Matrix my way out from between the pieces of shrapnel flying towards me.” He snorted, but then added, rather more seriously, “Thank fuck Gavin was there to drag me out or I'd've been a goner.”

Ray pressed his lips together. He gave Michael's shirt a final tug and turned to get the bed ready.

The mattress was rock hard and moth-eaten, the pillows and blankets long gone, but it was better than the floor when they laid their sleeping bags out on it.

They didn't say much else to each other that night – didn't need to, really, because Ray was still just so overwhelmed by relief that Michael was fine, was alive. Was still here for him to hold in his arms as they shifted close together on the bed – Michael lying on his side to ease his ribs, head tucked against Ray's shoulder, Ray pulling his arm in close about him.

And that relief – that consuming _affection_ for him – that eased Ray's mind, a little, because Geoff was right. He did love Michael – even if it still scared him to think it so plainly – nothing was going to change that.

 

* * *

 

He woke up to Michael kissing him.

Gentle, soft kisses peppered along his jaw and cheek. Ray opened his eyes blearily, turning his head to find Michael's face inches from his, eyes creased with mirth.

“Good morning,” Michael said, grinning at him.

“G'morning, you fucking sap-” he paused, realising that it was still quite dark outside, only the faintest traces of light leaking in through the windows and the cracks in the walls. “What time is it?”

“Only just dawn.”

Ray rubbed his eyes, reaching to put on his glasses. It was a brisk, cold morning and inside the sleeping bag it was comfortably warm. He turned to Michael and frowned a little as he took note of the bruises and scrapes, looking darker today than they had last night.

“How's your shoulder?” he asked, and Michael rotated it a little with a frown.

“Sore but not agonising. Help me take my shirt off?” he asked, and Ray moved to do so. Barely had he pulled it up over Michael's head than the other wrapped a hand around the back of his neck and pulled him into a proper kiss.

Ray kissed back, but as the fuzziness of sleep began to drift from his brain, the events of yesterday came swimming back in. Guilt crashed into him like a freight train, and as Michael lowered himself back against the mattress, pulling Ray with him, he had to throw a hand out to avoid falling onto the other man and injuring him further.

“Hey,” Ray said, breaking away.

Michael raised his eyebrows. “Hey?” he replied, and smiled. There was something mischievous in his eyes, and the next thing Ray knew there was a hand creeping over his back, up under his shirt, warm fingers tracing soft circles against his skin. He shuddered.

“What are you doing?” he asked, still holding himself up over Michael. Not pulling back but not moving in either.

“What do you think I'm doing?” Michael asked. His hand settled on Ray's hip. “Kiss me, asshole.”

Ray paused, a little confused. Unsure exactly what they were doing, where they were going with this. But Michael was staring at him expectantly, so he leaned in and kissed him. The bruising press of lips distracted him for a few moments – he felt his heart rate pick up a little as Michael nipped gently at his bottom lip – but then the hand on his waist slid back, lower, slipping up under his jeans, the waistband loose from sleeping in them. Ray went tense and he pulled back, breathing heavily.

“Michael...”

“Hm?” Michael stared up at him. His eyes were dark, pupils blown – his own chest heaving. “You wanted this, right? To move things along?”

“I... you're hurt.” And he sat back a bit, now, hand coming up to gently trace the stitches on Michael's shoulder; the skin red and bruised around the dark thick thread. Ghost-light touches that made Michael shiver even if they didn't hurt him.

“I'm not going to break, Ray,” Michael insisted – but he'd noticed something was wrong now, and he sat up a bit too. “What is it? What's up?”

“I... I don't...” And the guilt, the shame, was creeping up even more now, overwhelming him.

 _Lying about it – that will just get you in deep_ , Geoff's voice rang in his head.

And God, he _felt_ like a liar, if only by omission. Like it would be dishonest to go further with this when Gavin was still a pressing presence at the back of his mind. And _whoah,_ Jesus Christ, do _not_ think about Gavin while Michael's hand is still on your ass, just – _no_.

“We can't fuck while your ribs are messed up, man,” he said, with a weak sort of laugh – but Michael just grinned, cheekily.

“Who said anything about fucking?” he replied – and his hand withdrew from the back of Ray's jeans only to move to the front, and _okay_ , _abort, abort_ -

“Stop,” he said, moving to grab Michael's wrist.

Michael pulled back immediately. He was frowning, now, looking confused more than anything else – and Ray felt like the worst person in the world as he shuffled back on the bed, giving Michael more room to sit up.

“I... are you okay? Was I going too fast?” Michael asked, concerned now – and _fuck, fuck he thinks it's his fault, I've messed up – I've fucking messed up._

“It's not you,” he said. “I... sorry. I'm sorry.”

“Don't fucking _apologise_ , Ray,” Michael snapped immediately. “I thought you wanted... but if you didn't, that's fine, that's totally fine, we can take things at your pace-”

“It's Gavin.”

It burst out before he could stop it – and he immediately regretted everything. The timing, the phrasing, speaking without thinking – because Michael went very, very stiff beside him, and Ray couldn't look at him. Could only stare down at his hands, feeling like he was going to throw up at any second, his face burning.

“What...” Michael still sounded confused more than anything else. “What the fuck does that mean? It's _Gavin_? What the hell does he have to do with anything?”

Ray pressed his lips together. _Oh God. I have to tell him. I have to tell him._ Because Geoff was right – even if he'd wanted to take the time to sort things out in his own mind, there was no way he could hide that _something_ was up. And Michael would want to know, and he couldn't lie – that would get messy fast – he couldn't not tell him.

He took a deep, shaky breath. “I don't... I'm confused, I don't really know myself.”

“What's wrong?” Michael sounded concerned now. He reached out and squeezed Ray's shoulder, but the touch only made Ray tense up more, feeling even worse because he sounded so _gentle,_ so worried – and God, this could go very, very wrong, he didn't... he didn't know what to do.

“Ray,” Michael said quietly. “What's going on?”

The words came out in a rush, jumbled and tripping over each other.

“I like Gavin. I think I like Gavin, fuck – that, that came out wrong – I love you, Michael-” And _fuck where did that come from_ – now was not the time to let that out. It should have been said with gravity, at a... a special moment, or something, it shouldn't have spilled out alongside another man's name. Michael's face had gone lax with shock but Ray couldn't give him time to react. Barrelled on.

“I love you – I do, I really, really do and I don't want... I want _you_ , but I also. I think I might also want him, and.... and I don't know, when I saw him with Ryan I just. I don't know. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I just. I don't know.”

Michael was staring at him and Ray still couldn't meet his gaze.

“I love you,” he repeated, quietly. As though that would make Michael understand. “I _love_ you.”

“But you're into Gavin as well.” Michael's voice was tight but not angry, and Ray didn't know what to think. And he'd never been a coward, but right now he didn't dare to look at Michael's face for fear of what he might see in his eyes.

“I don't know,” he replied, quietly – but Michael's fingers tightened on his shoulder. Not quite enough to hurt.

“Don't lie, Ray, just – I don't care, just don't fucking _lie_.”

“Okay,” Ray said. And his voice was hoarse now, soft and choked like he'd been crying even though he hadn't. “I think. I think I do. It's just. _Gavin_ , you know?” This last came out pleading, because he remembered the way Michael had looked at Gavin last night – the way he'd held him, back in the motel room, protective and _affectionate_ and – he had to _get_ it, surely?

Michael was silent for a very long moment.

“What do you want, Ray?” he asked, quietly.

“Not to hide this from you,” Ray replied, immediately – and Michael gave a little hum, seeming satisfied by that answer, at least.

Ray finally darted a glance at him. Michael was frowning, and tense, but he didn't look like he was about to explode with rage. But something still sat uneasy in Ray's stomach.

“I'm sorry,” he said, again.

“I should be angry,” was Michael's reply. Not ' _it's okay_ ,' which Ray honestly hadn't been genuinely expecting, but had still hoped for, somewhere deep inside. “I should be... fucking jealous, or something. My boyfriend's into another fucking guy, Jesus Christ.”

Ray bit his lip and looked down.

“But I'm... not? Really?” Michael continued, and scoffed out a half-hysterical laugh. “God, Ray, this is... I don't even know what to think. I'm not mad at you,” he repeated, but Ray couldn't help but wonder whether he meant it.

“I'm not going to act on it,” Ray said, hesitantly, “Not if you don't want to.”

“Not if _I_ don't want to?” And that was what had Michael's head snapping around in alarm, _that_ was what had his face twisting into a scowl. “What the fuck does that mean? You want to, what? Start a three-way? You and me and fucking Gavin – you think _I_ want to fuck him as well?”

The crudeness and harshness of his tone made Ray flinch and he looked away, gritting his teeth. _Michael gets angry when he's shocked. When he's hurt. It's a defence mechanism, he doesn't... he doesn't mean it._

“Jesus Christ, Ray.” Michael groaned now, reaching up to rub his face with both hands. “Fuck. Fuck.”

Ray looked away again. He had no words left to say.

“I need to think about this, you know?” Michael said, after a long and very awkward pause. “Fuck. I need to think about this.”

Ray did not know what that meant, but it... it didn't sound good. And the possibility struck him, suddenly, that he might have fucked this up before it had even begun. That ' _I need to think about it'_ really meant that Michael needed to think about the best way to break up with him, or something – needed to think about how they could work splitting up into still working together, and fuck, _fuck_ , panic was setting in again, or something close to it – but before he could work himself up any more, there was a knock at the door, making them jump.

“You guys banging in there?” Geoff's voice called out, and the sheer _awkwardness_ that overtook both of them was incredible.

“ _No_ ,” Michael hollered back, studiously not looking at Ray. “We'll be out in a bit.”

“Good,” Geoff shouted back. “We're packing up the cars now so move your little asses along quickly.”

They heard his footsteps retreat back across the gravel. Michael rose from the bed. He winced, hand going to his chest, but Ray didn't move to help him, sensing his touch would be unwelcome at the moment.

“I'm going to think about this, Ray,” Michael said again – and Ray still couldn't tell what he meant, what was in his voice, so all he could do was nod stiffly, silently.

 _I fucked up,_ he thought again – and then, rather more depressingly, as he wearily got up to roll up the sleeping bag – _he didn't say I love you back_.

 

* * *

 

Something had happened.

Geoff knew it as soon as he saw Ray and Michael emerge from the cottage, not looking at one another, Michael limping along on his own as Ray trailed behind carrying their bags. He exchanged glances with Jack, but neither of them commented.

And fuck – fuck – the only thing he could think of that would have them fighting was if Ray had gone ahead and told Michael about his little feelings revelation for Gavin. Now was really not a good time – not with Michael injured, and Ray still confused – Jesus Christ, how had it even come _up_?

“You riding with Ryan again?” he asked then, but Michael shook his head.

“I'll go with you guys,” he said.

Ryan tilted his head, seeming curious as to why, but made no comment.

“Okay then,” Geoff said. He looked at Jack again, and his boyfriend shook his head slightly. He was right – confronting them about it would only come across as interference. If they wanted help or advice they'd speak up about it, he knew.

They turned towards the cars, but Geoff paused when he saw Ray grab Gavin's shoulder as he headed for Ryan's vehicle.

“Gav, you should go with Geoff,” he heard Ray say, quietly.

Gavin paused, looking very confused. “Umm, why?”

Geoff saw Michael pause where he was walking and glance back over his shoulder at Gavin and Ray, eyes narrowing a little. Geoff cursed inwardly.

Ray didn't seem to know what to say. “I just think you should, okay?”

“But _why_?” Gavin pressed, frowning now. “We should split up evenly-”

Ray's grip tightened on Gavin's shoulder, and Geoff frowned, stepping forward in case he had to intervene – but a second later he saw Ray force the stress and tension from himself, pasting a smile on his face instead. It was only because he'd moved closer that he heard Ray say, in a low tone, “I want you to keep an eye on Michael for me.”

After a moment Gavin nodded. Ray let him go and he walked back towards Geoff – but he looked suspicious, Geoff realised. And of course Gavin, observant-as-fuck Gavin who made a living reading other people's tells, wouldn't fall for Ray's pretty half-assed lie. He'd noticed something was up too. But he didn't comment on it, and neither did Geoff as he put a hand on Gavin's back and steered him towards the car.

 

* * *

 

The drive back towards Achievement City was awkward.

Michael made little effort to disguise the fact that he was in a mood, though he refused to expand on why. He sat in the back seat staring out the window, replying curtly to any of their questions.

Geoff knew he must be mulling over what Ray had told him – thinking about it – and giving him space would have been the best option. It was an unfortunate circumstance that they would be crammed in a car together for the next three days, with little privacy for him to mull over everything he probably needed too.

It was an even more unfortunate circumstance that Ray had talked Gavin into driving with them, presumably because he himself couldn't bring himself to look at the other man. That forced _Michael_ to do the same, and Geoff could see the tension in his shoulders every time he glanced across at Gavin.

Gavin picked up on it quickly, and then, because he was Gavin, decided it would be a marvellous idea to pester the other man, seeming undeterred by his brusque replies.

“Michael, did you see those cows back there?”

“Yeah.”

“Have you ever blown up a cow?”

“No, Gavin, what the fuck. Shut up, I have a headache.”

“No you don't,” Gavin replied easily, “People with headaches close their eyes, or squint, or rub their temples. Their mouths scrunch up. I can tell when you're lying, Michael-” He broke off with a yelp as Michael threw a full water bottle at him, aiming right for his dick. “ _Michael_! Careful you prick, I have a staple in there you know.”

“Gavin,” Michael said, dangerously, “If you don't shut the fuck up right now I will _make_ you shut up.”

As much as Gavin could tell when he was lying, he could also tell when the other was not joking. He frowned, opening his mouth to argue more – not about to take such a face-heel turn from someone he'd been on very friendly terms with the day before, it seemed – but Geoff quickly intervened.

“Gavin,” he said, sternly. “Leave him be.”

Gavin sank back in his seat, deferring to Geoff's command. He looked hurt, though, and Geoff couldn't help but feel sorry for him. Without knowing the full story he must be wondering why Michael, who had been so close to him yesterday, was suddenly acting the way he had back when he presumably hated him.

He quickly steered the conversation back to business, and Heyman, and how they might convince him to cut off Edgar's supply of mercenaries, and that eased a little of the tension as they all turned their minds back towards the job.

 

* * *

 

By the time they reached a motor inn – one of the same ones they'd stopped in on the way up to the fair – it was dark out and they had long fallen into an exhausted silence.

There was a very awkward moment in the parking lot when the gents made to head to their room as usual only for Ray and Michael to stop them.

“Is something going on?” Ryan asked, with raised eyebrows – he was sharp, Geoff knew, and whatever he and Ray had talked about in the car on the way over here, he obviously still didn't know what was going on between he and Michael.

“Gavin should stay with Geoff and Jack,” Ray said then.

Gavin frowned, and opened his mouth to ask why, but Ray barrelled on.

“You don't sleep well when you're with us. We don't know what to do when you...” he trailed off, and Gavin looked stricken – and for a moment Geoff wanted to slap Ray because _whatever your issues are with Michael you do_ not _bring that up, you do not use_ that _as an excuse to get Gavin out of the way, fuck you, what do you think you're doing-_

But he couldn't stay angry, not when he saw how pained Ray looked under his forced level expression. Not when he saw how his hands were fisting nervously in the ends of his sleeves and his shoulders were hunched up and he was doing everything, everything possible not to look in Michael's direction, or even Gavin's.

“You were fine,” Gavin said, quietly – embarrassed, almost. “What you... what you did last time, it was fine, it _helped_ -”

“You're better off with Geoff and Jack,” Michael cut in, stiffly.

Annoyance rose up again, because much as Geoff felt sorry for Michael and Ray he could _see_ that Gavin was starting to wonder if he had bothered them with his issues, if they were tired of him – and he saw Ray notice at the same time, because his face softened.

“Just try it,” he said softly, and half-reached forward as though to touch Gavin's arm before thinking better of it. “If it's not better you can come back to our room. I just want you to get some rest, okay?”

“Okay,” Gavin said, looking a little pacified. He walked back towards their room and Geoff saw Ryan's eyes track his movements behind the mask.

“I guess I'm with you two then,” Ryan said, voice even.

“I'll take first watch,” Ray said immediately – and the last thing Geoff saw as he turned to go to their room was Ray moving to sit in the car rather than keep watch in the actual motel room. He caught Ryan's eyes and saw the confusion in them. All he could offer was a small shrug, not wanting to give away what was going on.

It was a relief to get inside. After the spookiness of the funfair and the lighthouse there was something almost comforting about the bright fluorescent lights of the motel, the overpowering smell of windex and spray-cleaner, the cheap worn carpet and horrible floral bedcovers.

Gavin went into the bathroom almost immediately to shower, and Geoff lay back on one of the beds, letting out a long, deep breath.

Jack sat next to him and carded a hand through Geoff's hair, massaging his scalp. Geoff closed his eyes, relishing his boyfriend's touch.

“Bit of a day, huh?” Jack said, quietly.

Geoff scoffed. “You can say that again. Jesus, Ray must have told him – and it looks like it didn't go down well.”

“No one got punched. They didn't have a screaming match. They didn't break up – yet, at least. I think that's as well as can be expected,” Jack said, and sighed. “We gonna intervene?”

“I'll let it play out,” Geoff replied. “If they don't sort it out soon, I'll talk to Michael.” He ran his hands over his face. “God. I knew I shouldn't let myself hope for some fairytale ending but this is a bit messier than I expected.”

Jack 'hmm'ed and they sat quietly for a moment. Geoff opened his eyes and looked up at him, frowning a little at the yellowing bruises he could see peeking out from under Jack's beard and the collar of his shirt, the plaster still stuck over the bridge of his nose. It had been a struggle, but thank God that fucking duck was finally dead, though he shuddered a little at the thought of how it had happened. Jack hadn't brought it up, though, so Geoff figured he wasn't too traumatised – knew his boyfriend trusted him enough to tell him if something was wrong.

“You know,” Jack said eventually – something almost hesitant in his tone. “You remember – what you said about Griffon?”

“Yeah,” Geoff replied. “What about it?”

“If... if that were to happen,” Jack said. “Did you mean just sex, or...?”

Geoff sat up. His thoughts were whirling now, wondering what Jack was getting at – if he was leading somewhere with this. And rather than feeling wary, he realised he was almost... excited, or something close to it, and quickly shoved those thoughts away, not wanting to get ahead of himself.

“No,” he replied, calmly. “Well, maybe. It would depend on who we were talking about. But if there was... someone, who we both liked... if we sorted it out and both felt the same way, I don't think I'd have a problem with it. Why? What about you?”

“The same,” Jack replied. And Geoff sat up a bit more, now.

“Why? Is there someone?” he asked it perhaps a little too quickly – almost _eagerly_ – and Jack _laughed_ at him.

“No, no,” he said, but Geoff got the impression that wasn't quite the truth – but not a lie either, which puzzled him. “Just for future reference.”

“Glad we're on the same page, at least,” Geoff said, leaning back – and trying to ignore just how his heart had picked up at the possibility that Jack had been about to tell him... he didn't know what. That he wanted to try for adding another person. He didn't even know who he'd been hoping for.

 _Gavin_? God, that would get messy fast – and it was easier to laugh off the possibility than to think about it seriously, half scared about what he might find.

 _Ryan_. The thought struck him then and suddenly made his stomach drop, because Jack and Ryan were close. He'd have to be blind to not have noticed just how much Jack liked the other man. He wasn't sure what it was that had drawn Jack to him suddenly, but Geoff had noticed the way Ryan seemed more relaxed in his presence. Watched him sometimes like he was smiling, though of course the mask meant Geoff couldn't tell. And Geoff hadn't missed the casual touch Ryan had given him back at the fair – something easy and affectionate in it.

 _Oh God,_ Ryan _. What would I think about that?_

And the thing was – he wasn't sure. And the more he thought about it – the more he tried to imagine Ryan fitting into their relationship – the more unsure he became. It didn't help that he didn't even know what the guy _looked_ like – but he couldn't deny he'd been happy with the way that Ryan had opened up more around him recently. Couldn't deny he was looking forward to it happening more and more.

But the fact that he knew so _little_ about him – that was a barrier holding him back, and without thinking about it, he said, “We should try to find out who Ryan's old team were.”

Jack froze.

Geoff sat up a bit. “I mean it. He's hinted at it, right? That Edgar killed them. Maybe... maybe we can understand it more, if we work out exactly what happened. Exactly what went down.”

“I don't think Ryan would like us doing that,” Jack began, but it was useless by this point – once Geoff got an idea in his head he stuck with it, and he was used to doing what he wanted despite what other people liked or not.

He took out his phone, already pulling up a couple of old files he had where he remembered hearing Ryan's name – he'd looked into him a lot when Edgar first put out the hit on Jack, worried that he was going to come to claim the bounty on his head – but barely had he started than Gavin opened the bathroom door and emerged, moving in to flop down on the other bed.

“Bathroom's free if you guys need it,” he said, and Geoff nodded, looking up.

Gavin looked tired still, and a little down. Geoff couldn't help but frown. Since that night – that intense, slightly awkward night when Gavin was more than a little drunk – they hadn't really had a chance to talk, considering they'd been on the road in different cars and motel rooms. Whatever lingering tension there may have been from the incident had faded away through sheer force of separation, but it came back to him now as he stared at the little strip of skin between Gavin's boxers and where his shirt had ridden up a little; a small patch that had emerged unscarred.

He flicked his eyes away, feeling guilty suddenly. And then realised, dimly, that the reason for his hesitance was nothing to do with himself, or even Jack, it was entirely because _Gavin_ had enough on his plate without worrying about people flinging themselves at him from all sides.

If not for that...

He glanced at Jack, who was also watching Gavin with a soft sort of concern.

 _Maybe_ , Geoff considered, thoughtfully. And then pushed that away in favour of sitting up and calling over, “Gav! C'mere, I want you to help me with something.”

“Your wish is my command, Geoffrey,” Gavin shot back, getting up and coming over to sit on the bed next to him. He held his hand out for the phone and Geoff passed it over.

“I'm trying to find out more about who Ryan was working for before all this. Maybe two or three years ago – back when Edgar started messing with the people he was working with.”

Gavin went very still and very stiff.

“You're trying to find out what happened to him,” he said, slowly, and Geoff nodded.

“Yes. I am.”

“He won't like that.”

“He never told us not to,” Geoff pointed out, and Gavin hummed.

“Fair play. Ryan's well smart about staying off the radar, so we're probably better off looking into Edgar. Any reports of a bloke in a cow mask terrorising cities will probably pop up something...” He trailed off, fingers tapping industriously away at Geoff's phone as the others peered over his shoulder. “This'd probably be faster on my laptop-” He paused suddenly and Geoff raised his eyebrows.

“Something up?”

“I....” Gavin lowered the phone slowly to his lap. Geoff looked down at the screen and his stomach dropped as he realised Gavin had somehow opened up the maps of England and the contact files he and Jack had been looking into when they'd been trying to find Dan.

“What is this, Geoff?” Gavin asked – voice quieter and more intense than Geoff had heard him before. “What are you playing at?”

Geoff and Jack exchanged glances. It was Jack who spoke.

“He's trying to find your friend. Gruchy.”

“Why?” Gavin pressed. He passed the phone back to Geoff like it had burned him and scooted away a little on the bed. “Why would you want to do that?”

“For you,” Geoff said, intently. He leaned forward, put his hands on Gavin's knees and waited until the other dragged his eyes up to meet his.

“You have a problem, Gav,” Geoff said, softly. “You're still barely sleeping. You said yourself you can't get over what happened with Edgar – what happened with Barry. And we're trying to help you, and God knows we're not about to give up on you, but Gruchy... _Dan_... it seems to me like you need him right now. He's the one who helped you through this before.”

“You've been trying to find him for me,” Gavin said slowly, and Geoff nodded.

“Of course. I want... I want you to get better, Gavin. I'll do whatever it takes to get you there. I care about you – _we_ care about you. I've got contacts in England – they’ve been helping me look for him.”

Jack was nodding too, now, and Gavin stared at him for a moment. Then he scoffed out a half-hysterical laugh, seeming both very pleased and terribly embarrassed at the same time.

“I... Jesus, I can't think what to say. Thank you, I suppose, that... I didn't expect that.”

“If you don't want me to-”

“No! No, I... that's good. Please find him, if you can.” He looked very young suddenly, and terribly earnest. “I... I'd like to talk to him again.”

“Good.” Geoff smiled, and Gavin smiled back – and then, almost hesitantly, leaned forward and quickly, abruptly hugged Geoff. Geoff hugged him back – and then grinned when Gavin reached his other arm out to pull Jack in as well.

And that moment – that embrace – felt oddly fitting. The feeling of Jack's arm around his shoulders, strong and warm and comforting, an easy familiarity to it – and then Gavin's smaller frame, arms locked tight under Geoff's arms, less familiar but yet somehow _right_.

Geoff brought his hand up, ruffling Gavin's hair vigorously, and the younger man yelped before he drew back, laughing.

“Okay,” Geoff said then with a grin. “Chick flick moment over. Now that's all sorted, let's get back to spying on Ryan.”

“Yeah,” Gavin laughed, “Okay."

Geoff handed him the phone again, and as they settled back on the bed Jack caught his eye. Geoff looked back at him with a smile, but Jack looked thoughtful more than anything else, and his gaze quickly turned to Gavin, watching him work.

 _Maybe,_ Geoff started to think again – but pushed it away, not wanting to ruin this easy, comfortable moment here and now with ruminations and possibilities. Here was fine. Now was fine.

 

* * *

 

Ray and Michael had not spoken a word to one another all morning.

Ray knew that Ryan had noticed – he kept darting quick, suspicious glances between them. But as much as Ray and Michael were strained, Ryan and Michael also seemed to be having some sort of issues, because they, too, had barely spoken to each other the entire time, heading immediately to bed.

Ray darted a glance to Michael as they got ready to head out to the cars. The bruise around his eye was as stark and terrible as it had been the day before; the ones spreading along his cheek were already starting to yellow.

“How...” his voice cracked a little, so he cleared his throat and tried again. “How are you feeling?”

Michael looked back at him for the briefest of moments.

“I'm fine,” he replied, and gave a small smile. Ray started to smile back but Michael had already looked away again.

 _...okay_ , he thought. _Mixed signals, much_.

He couldn't quite work up the courage to approach Michael, to ask what he was thinking, how he was feeling about the issue after sleeping on it. So he trudged out to the car after Ryan, watching as the others also emerged from their room across the car park.

“Morning guys,” Geoff called out. Ray didn't miss the way his eyes darted to himself and Michael before softening in disappointment, seeming to take in their continuing tension. He knew the other man had worked out what had happened, and part of him wanted to ask him for help – but this was between he and Michael, and he didn't think his boyfriend would appreciate the others getting dragged into it.

Gavin came up by his side and Ray glanced at him awkwardly. He felt a bit bad for pushing him away, but he couldn't look at him, couldn't be around him without feeling that burning shame. Without feeling like he was betraying Michael somehow.

“Morning,” Gavin said – a little hesitantly, and a stab of guilt hit Ray.

“Hey,” Ray said, and smiled a bit. “You look like you slept better.”

“I took two of those pills this time,” Gavin said, and Ray frowned.

“Shit, dude, you sure that's safe?” They were Ryan's pills, after all, and Gavin was pretty small compared to the other man. He wasn't sure the ratio of medication to body weight was exactly in line.

Gavin nodded. “Yeah, I checked, and Geoff did too. Conked me out enough that I didn't dream or anything, so. That worked out.”

“That's good.” He turned away, trying to signal that the conversation was over, but didn't miss the way Gavin's face fell a little at being dismissed so abruptly before he turned to return to Geoff and the others. _Fuck. I'm just fucking things up left right and centre, aren't I._

Geoff waved them over to look at a map spread out over the top of his car. “If we drive through the night we can get back to AC by tomorrow. Ryan, you and Ray alright to swap with each other or do you want one of us to get in the car with you?”

Ryan glanced at Ray, who shrugged. He turned back to Geoff and shook his head.

“We should be fine,” he said. “I'd rather make the time.”

“Okay then,” Geoff said. “Let's get back home then, boys.”

 

* * *

 

Ray could feel Ryan's eyes on him in the car. Yesterday they'd made stilted small talk for a little while, Ryan obviously curious as to what was going on between he and Michael, but not bringing it up. But now that a day had passed and still things hadn't been fixed between them, Ray knew he wouldn't just leave it without commenting on it.

Sure enough, about twenty minutes past as they drove in silence before Ryan cleared his throat.

“Shall we get the elephant in the room – well, car – out of the way?”

“It's none of your business,” Ray replied immediately, hoping that would deter him – after all, Ryan had blown off his attempts to pry into his personal life before – but Ryan just let out a low hum.

“It's my business if it affects how you work with each other. Which it _has,_ even if it's just something like our driving arrangements.”

“You've been quiet around him lately as well,” Ray shot back. “What happened between you two?”

He noticed the way Ryan's grip tightened on the steering wheel.

“He misconstrued something I said,” the other man replied, carefully.

“What did you say?” Ray asked. “Why didn't you just clear it up?”

“It's not that simple,” Ryan said – and Ray was surprised to find that he sounded a little pained, as though he genuinely wanted to fix things with Michael but just wasn't sure how. _That makes two of us_.

“Why not?”

“Now who's poking into none of their business?” Ryan muttered, but sighed heavily. “Maybe you can... help me, actually.”

“I don't think I can help you with anything if it's to do with Michael,” Ray muttered, and Ryan glanced at him.

“So _he's_ pissed with _you_ , then.”

“Yeah,” Ray found himself admitting, staring at his lap.

“Well, that makes both of us,” Ryan said, and they sat in a glum silence for a few moments.

Ray closed his eyes briefly. Though he had been trying not to think about it, the possibility that Michael _was_ going to break up with him drifted back into his head. He didn't know what he'd do then. If they both still went to work with Geoff they'd have to keep working with each other – and he didn't think he could face Michael every day. Not after how lovely things had been between them for those scant few days. Not knowing that he'd been the one to ruin it all so quickly.

“Maybe you're right.” The words came out without him really even thinking about them.

“About what?”

“About this being a bad idea,” Ray said. When Ryan looked at him, seeming confused, he expanded: “Michael and I. Being together.”

“When the fuck did I ever say that?”

“Um, like five hundred fucking times? You hate personal relationships between people who work together, remember? Maybe you're right. Because if he....” And saying it out loud seemed terrible suddenly, seemed to almost make it real, but he took a deep breath, his voice shaking only slightly. “If he ends things I don't. I don't know what I'm gonna do. I don't know if we can get over that. I don't think we could stay friends. Not after this.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, kid, what did you _do_ to him?” Ryan muttered, but he sounded almost uncomfortable.

Ray ran his hands over his face. “I fucked things up royally and I don't... It's my _fault_ but I didn't – I didn't ask for it to happen.”

“If you're gonna be vague I can't help you, Ray.”

“You can't help me anyway,” he scoffed. “Unless you can somehow surgically remove the fact that I...” and here he paused, wondering if it was a good idea to tell him, before thinking fuck it. Maybe it was because he didn't actually know Ryan all that well that he suddenly found it easier to talk to him – maybe because there was something genuinely interested in his tone, or because he was _capable_ , more than anything else – he seemed to know how to make things work out for himself.

“That I like Gavin,” he blurted out, and felt Ryan stiffen next to him.

“You like Gavin,” the other man repeated, slowly.

Ray could feel his cheeks burning. “I know. It's terrible, and I still love Michael and I just. Don't know what I'm doing, but Geoff said I should tell him so I did and he says he's not angry but he _is_ , I know he is – he's upset with me and he's probably upset with Gav too and now I've just. Fucked everything up. Fuck, fuck, _fuck_.”

Ryan was still and silent beside him, something tense in the line of his shoulders.

And it hit Ray then, suddenly. _Ryan probably likes Gavin too, fuck, how did I not think of that?!_

“I'm not about to make a move on him,” he said quickly. “So if you-”

“What do you mean _if I_?” Ryan demanded, something venomous in it, but Ray continued on quickly.

“I know you know I saw you kissing him. If you like him too...”

Ryan deflated a little.

“I'm not going to do anything,” he told Ray, something oddly almost vulnerable in it. “He doesn't need that right now and I... I...” he trailed off, seeming to realise he had already revealed too much.

When he spoke again, there was something defensively gruff in his tone. “That is a fucking mess you've gotten yourself into, though. Does Gavin know?”

“No!”

“Good. Keep it that way. Like I said, he doesn't need that right now.”

Ray nodded.

There was a moment of very sad silence before Ryan finally took a deep, almost hesitant breath.

“But Ray... despite what I said earlier, I don't... I don't think you and Michael were a bad idea. Better that you tried, even if it doesn't work out, than not.”

“Who are you and what have you done with Ryan?” Ray demanded, and Ryan scoffed.

“Michael...” he trailed off, shook his head a few times as though to clear it, then continued – something quick and almost nervous to his voice, “He's annoyed with me because. Because I told him I care about Gavin – about all of you guys – and he thinks I didn't mean it. That I was just saying it. And I couldn't... I couldn't clarify it to him, I couldn't bring myself to. But I did mean it, and... I hope things work out between you two, I genuinely do. Give him some time, but don't just wait for him to make the first move. That might have to be on you. You'll never know what he's thinking if you don't ask him.”

Ray stared at him, and Ryan would not turn his head to look at him. He was still tense, and Ray was suddenly struck by just how surreal it was that Ryan was being so _open_ with him – so unguarded about his own feelings. He felt suddenly oddly privileged that the other man trusted him enough to even say that.

“Ryan...” he reached out and touched the other man's arm gently. Ryan remained stiff under his touch, but he didn't shake his hand off. “Thank you.”

He had been studiously avoiding thinking about how he might feel about him since his little revelation at the fair, but now – hearing him blatantly admit that he cared not only about Ray but also _Michael_ -

 _No, Narvaez_ , he chided himself, _how can you even be fucking thinking about that when Michael's already pissed at you for this Gavin thing? Just stop – just_ stop.

“Don't worry about it,” Ryan said – and the tension in the car seemed to snap, then. Both on equal footing after this little sharing and caring session, they seemed to come to some mutual agreement to talk about anything else, to take their minds off it – and again Ray felt that surge of gratitude to Ryan for seeming to know exactly what he needed.

 

* * *

 

They drove through the night, taking turns napping and driving. When they finally reached Achievement City Ray was exhausted, stiff from sitting so long in the car, and had gotten into the habit of compulsively checking his phone in case Michael had texted him (he hadn't).

They pulled up at a little roadhouse in the outskirts of AC to refuel, reconvene and plan their next move. It was past noon by now and Ray felt a little disoriented at how disrupted his sleeping habits had been lately.

The others looked exhausted as well, Michael in particular seeming lethargic, limping when he made his way over to them from where he'd gone to the toilet block. Ray felt a pang of terrible concern for him, and the urge to go over to his side and check on him was almost physically painful. He forced himself to stay still, fists clenched until his nails dug into the palms of his hands – and nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt a hand descend on his shoulder and turned to see Jack standing beside him.

Jack squeezed his shoulder lightly.

“He's fine,” he said, softly. “I kept an eye on him in the car. Tired but healing.”

“Thank you,” Ray replied – and turned just in time to see Michael's eyes on him before he looked away again. _What are you thinking, Michael?_

Ryan thought he should make the first move. But Michael probably needed more time – he was watching Gavin now, too. Gavin who seemed... oddly drowsy as well; he kept yawning and his eyes were lidded, his hair flat and dishevelled on one side like he'd been sleeping on it.

Ryan seemed to have noticed as well, because he walked over to Gavin and stared down at him for a moment.

“Hi Ryan,” Gavin said, with a sleepy sort of smile.

“Hi Gavin,” Ryan replied – and Ray could practically _hear_ the fondness in his voice, and fuck, okay, Ryan was in it way deeper than he'd thought. “You sleeping okay?”

“I took your pills, your mysterious pills. Thanks,” Gavin added suddenly, looking almost embarrassed. “For that.”

“I'm glad they could help,” Ryan said, and Gavin grinned at him a bit before turning back to Geoff. Ray saw the way Ryan's gaze lingered on him and again kicked himself for that strange jolt that shot through his stomach. Not jealousy but something close to it – and directed at _both_ of them.

Jack squeezed Ray's shoulder again, and he jumped guiltily, suddenly wondering if the other man had noticed him staring – but Jack was just directing his attention back towards Geoff, who'd spread out the map again.

“Heyman doesn't normally do face to face appointments,” Geoff said then, calling all of them over. “But I did find that he has an office on the East side of the city. We'll need a place to stay, though, and with Shadles on our trail I'm guessing Edgar will be trying to track us through the city. None of my safehouses are secure with him in the mix.”

There was a moment of silence in which none of the rest of them offered a solution.

Then Gavin raised a tentative hand.

“Uhh,” he said. “Considering I hunt people down for a living, I make sure where I live myself is really, really hard for someone doing the same thing to track down. No cameras in the area, off the grid, strategically positioned, etcetera etcetera.”

“You're suggesting we go to your apartment?” Geoff spoke up, and Gavin shrugged.

“If you lot want. I don't really care.” He darted a glance sideways, at Ryan, who nodded slowly.

“That could work,” he said. “You're right, Shadles will be trying to hunt us down, and Gavin should know more than anyone else how he's going to go about that. If you say your apartment is safe from prying eyes... well, you should know.”

“Heyman's office is closer. We'll go there first,” Geoff said. “Then make a base of it at Gavin's.”

Thus in agreement, they headed back to their cars. Ray couldn't help but be curious as to what Gavin's flat would be like; Michael had told him a little but it would be far different seeing it in person. Being at Ryan's apartment had been strange; he'd felt oddly closer to the man afterwards, like he'd been privy to some hidden unseen part of him.

Suddenly he felt a surge of longing for the apartment he and Michael shared. They'd been away on jobs longer than this, but he still missed it. Abruptly wondered if they'd ever be back there again – and if so, if they'd be together at the time, or have broken up by then. Either way, there was no way that they would return in the same state of relationship that they'd left in.

 

* * *

 

 

Joel Heyman's office was a dark little building crammed between a Chinese grocery store and a dry cleaner's. There was no sign on the door, which opened into a tiny reception area. A massive potted plant took up most of the room, and there were only two chairs. Though the room looked small and dingy, Ray quickly took note of the security cameras on the walls, the height of the reception desk – anything could be hiding behind it – and the fact that the door leading into the back of the building was large, solid, and made of metal rather than wood.

A tiny blonde woman sat behind the desk. She looked up when they came in, seeming surprised.

“Hi,” she said though, bright but confused. “Umm, do you have an appointment-”

She broke off when she seemed to realise exactly who Geoff was – then stiffened when she caught sight of Ryan as well. Immediate alarm flashed across her features and she reached forward under the desk, presumably going for a gun – but Geoff raised his hands immediately.

“We're just here to talk.”

“Geoff Ramsey.” Her voice was shrill with alarm. “And the mad mercenary – what do you want? We haven't-”

“We're just here,” Geoff repeated, slowly, “To talk. Is Heyman back there?”

The woman stared up at him. Her eyes were wide but Ray wasn't fooled; there was no way someone as important as Joel Heyman would hire a receptionist who couldn't hold her own. Her hands were still under the desk, undoubtedly going for either a gun or a panic button.

“If you want to speak to Joel,” she informed him, “You need an appointment.”

“I'm Geoff Ramsey,” Geoff said, "I don't make appointments.”

“You can't speak to him,” she replied, lifting her chin. “But I can give him a message for you.”

Ryan did not seem impressed by this, but it was Jack who stepped forward, gently shouldering Geoff out of the way. He'd always been the more diplomatic one.

“What's your name?” he asked.

The woman blinked in surprise a couple of times before replying, “Kara.”

“Kara. Tell Heyman we have an offer for him. We want him to cut off his supply of mercenaries to a man named Edgar and we're willing to pay. This is a business transaction, not a threat.”

Kara looked at him a moment longer through narrowed eyes, then nodded. Glancing over her shoulder at them, she turned to the door at the back of the room and knocked on it twice before entering, opening it as little as possible before slipping in and slamming it shut behind her with a metallic _clang_.

“Whatcha tell her that for, Jack?” Michael demanded. “This is absolutely a threat.”

“No, he's right,” Geoff said. “Heyman's not our enemy. He's like Burnie, he's not someone we can just take out because he refuses to do what we want. He might not be _powerful_ per say, but he's part of what keeps business in Achievement City ticking. And I don't doubt he has precautions in place in case anyone comes after him. If we don't frame this as an offer he'll just run – and probably send people after us. That's not something I want to bother with.”

Kara took an exceptionally long time in the office, to the point where they started to wonder whether the two of them had done a runner out the back. Ray occupied himself for a while by making obscene gestures at the security cameras, drawing stifled sort of giggles from Gavin.

“I like this giant plant,” Gavin said after a while, walking over to it and peering in. It really was a remarkably big plant. “Is it real? Oh! It is. I've always wondered how plants stay alive in pots full of pebbles.”

“The pot's full of dirt, fuckwit,” Michael informed him. “The pebbles are merely on _top_.”

“Oh,” Gavin said, and tilted his head, staring at it for a moment. “That... makes sense.”

Michael rolled his eyes, huffing a little, but couldn't seem to quite stop himself smiling. And Ray was so glad to see that smile that he couldn't help but stare at him, a stupid, goofy sort of look on his face, only to look away in embarrassment when Michael saw him staring.

He had no idea what was going on.

Michael was still avoiding him, but seemed to be avoiding Gavin a little as well, and he didn't seem as angry as he had been earlier so all Ray could think was that maybe he was starting to work things out in his mind.

But he still didn't want to get his hopes up for anything. Still couldn't bring himself to quite interact with Gavin the way he had before, afraid that he would slip up somehow and make things worse.

Luckily the door opened at that moment, and Kara emerged.

“A business transaction, you say,” she said, and Geoff nodded, moving up to the counter again.

“I understand that calling off a deal he's already made could be pretty bad for his reputation, so I'm willing to pay.”

Kara nodded. “You're damn right,” she said. “Edgar's called in just about every contact we have. It's not gonna be cheap. Joel doesn't want money.”

“What does he want, then?” It was Ryan who growled it, and Kara's eyes flicked to him nervously. “A hit?”

“No,” Kara said. She handed something to Geoff, a file that contained some sort of photograph. Ray couldn't see it from where he was standing, but he saw the way Geoff's brows furrowed in confusion.

“What the fuck are these?”

“Four blocks of solid 24 carat gold,” Kara replied. “Part of a smuggling operation that went wrong a while back. Someone stole them and they've been off the grid for a little while. A lot of people aren't happy about it. These are worth a _lot._ ”

“You want us to find them?” Geoff demanded, and Kara nodded.

“They've just popped up again. They're in the country.” Her gaze narrowed in on Gavin, and she pointed a finger at him. “Heyyy, Free.”

“Hi,” Gavin replied, sounding a little confused. “I don't... know you?”

“Heard of you through Burnie,” she said, seeming nonplussed. She whisked the file from Geoff's hands and marched over to hand it to him instead. “Everything we have on that gold so far is in there. If what I've heard about you is right, you should be able to get it no problem.” She looked at Geoff then, and then Ryan, and gave a decisive nod. “Yep – if anyone can get this gold back it'll be you guys!”

“That's all he wants?” Geoff demanded. “We get him this illegal smuggled gold and he'll call off every one of the contracts he sold to Edgar?”

Kara nodded. “Yep.”

Ray saw Geoff and Jack exchange glances before Jack gave a small nod.

“Okay,” Geoff said. He straightened up suddenly, looming over tiny Kara with a menace Ray didn't see him display often. Suddenly, despite the tired bags under his eyes, the slightly wilted nature of his moustache and the fact that his clothes were creased from days on the road, he seemed dangerous. “If you cross us, I will kill you.”

Kara stared up at him before turning wordlessly back to her desk. Geoff walked out, the others trailing off behind him.

“So this took a turn,” Ray spoke up, as they stood around outside, Gavin nose-deep in the file. “We're off on a fucking treasure hunt now if we want to stop Edgar.”

“Can you make something of that?” Geoff asked Gavin, who nodded.

“Yeah – yeah, I can. Shouldn't be too hard.”

“Good,” Geoff said, nodding decisively. “As long as Heyman keeps up his end of the deal, Edgar should soon find himself without an army.”

“And then,” Ryan said, darkly, “ _Then_ we'll be poised to take him out.”

“We're close,” Jack said – and there was an odd pause as they all seemed to realise that yeah, they _were_ close – really, really close. That the work of the last few months was building to a close. That they were finally actually going to take him down.

Normally Ray would have turned to Michael to celebrate, but now their near-victory felt bittersweet, marred by the current tension between them.

_After this, what then? If we haven't fixed things before then?_

“High five!” Gavin declared then, breaking him from his reverie, and though Geoff and Jack rolled their eyes and laughed, they did comply. Even Ryan held up a hand to participate.

 

* * *

 

Gavin being a rather less mysterious person than Ryan, it was something less of a massive surprise to visit his apartment, but Ray couldn't help feeling oddly excited anyway. As it was, the place was underwhelming. Much smaller than Ryan's apartment, but far messier.

“Whoops,” Gavin said as he entered, flicking on the light. “I forgot to clean up before I left...” he trailed off, seeming to realise that the last time he was here it had been because he was fleeing from the very people he had returned with now – but he shook it off quickly and moved to take out the bin.

The rest of them were left standing in a slightly awkward silence in the living room. Finally, Ryan looked around the room.

“Not much space!” he declared – indeed, there was only really the main room, which served as dining room, lounge, and kitchen, and then the bathroom and bedroom. It seemed most of them would be sleeping on the floor tonight. At least there was carpet.

It also meant there was nowhere for him to go to escape Michael.

Gavin came back in, dusting his hands off, and plonked himself at his computer desk, reaching forward to plug everything back in.

“Make yourself at home,” he said. “There is... nothing to eat, actually. Do we have much stuff left from the road?”

“Not a lot,” Jack replied. “I'll go get more now. Anyone else coming?”

Michael nodded and stood up as well, Geoff too.

Ryan also rose. “I'm going to check out the neighbourhood,” he said then.

Ray paused, wondering what to do. He had half a mind to go with Ryan, but he left it a little too late and he was alone in the room with Gavin, the others on the way out, when the other called out to him.

“Hey, Ray?”

“Yeah?” he asked, turning. And shit, now that the two of them were alone, that crawling guilt came upon him again. Like even just interacting with Gavin was somehow going behind Michael's back. Which was stupid, he knew, but it was his own shame getting the better of him.

Gavin was frowning at him, and he knew the other could tell his smile was forced, but he couldn't stop. Just smiled and smiled like that would somehow convince the both of them that everything was okay.

Gavin looked hesitant, now, almost nervous. “Is Michael angry with me?”

Ray froze, suddenly with no idea what to say. All he managed to emit was an eloquent: “Uh.”

“He was... after the fair and all, I thought we'd gotten a lot closer,” Gavin admitted. “But then you guys had a fight, or something, I don't know what's going on – and now he's. He's not being mean but he's barely talking to me and he won't look at me and _you_ won't look at me either and I can tell that whatever you guys have going on, I'm involved somehow. Did I do something? Because I don't remember doing anything.”

“It's nothing,” Ray said. It sounded weak even to his own ears. “Don't worry about it.”

“How can I not bloody worry about it when you guys are fighting because of me?” Gavin asked, frowning.

This was not what Ray needed right now. He had enough on his plate not knowing what Michael was thinking without Gavin pestering him to know what was going on as well.

“It's not because of you-”

“Don't lie to me, Ray.” Gavin stood up and took a step towards him, looking pained, now. “Just tell me if I did something-”

“You didn't do anything, okay?!” Ray snapped. It was stressed more than angry but he still caught Gavin's slight flinch. He reached up and ran his hands through his hair. God he was just – _sick_ of this. Of all of it. “ _You_ did nothing. So stop fucking asking, alright?”

“Ray...” Gavin moved as though to touch his arm but Ray stepped back, out of his reach.

“ _Leave it_ ,” he said again, and turned, fleeing the apartment before Gavin could do or say anything else.

It wasn't until he was out in the street, pacing agitatedly up and down the road, his heart racing and his hands shaking and an odd, nervous jittering in his stomach, that he realised _fuck_ , there was no way they could go on like this. Not when they would all be living in such an enclosed space.

Part of him was just _tired_. Just wanted to step away from it all – to just have some time to _himself_ , to sort his own thoughts out, because they'd been crammed together in the same cars and houses and motels for weeks now and he was starting to feel claustrophobic about it. He'd not had the chance to gather himself.

Leaning back against the wall of the apartment block, he took a few deep breaths, forcing himself to calm down a little.

 _Fuck. Fuck_. He realised suddenly that, oh great, now he'd snapped at Gavin and then left him alone in the apartment – but he'd be fine, it was his own flat, after all.

He still felt bad about it – and the amount of guilt he'd been carrying around for the last few days was overwhelming, a leaden weight of self-hatred on his shoulders that was starting to wear him down, leaving him drained to the point where he just wanted to _sit down_ and _be alone_ and just stop. Stop thinking, stop worrying, stop _feeling_.

He went back into the building, only because it was cold, but sat himself down on the concrete staircase rather than go back upstairs. And pulling his knees up to his chest, he buried his head in his arms and trying to quiet his mind, to catch at least a few peaceful moments of solitude, thought _fuck. Okay._

_Fuck._

 

* * *

 

There was something oddly domestic about going out and shopping for groceries. After days of driving, shooting, being shot at, blowing stuff up and killing people, it felt alien to be trawling the aisles of a small supermarket, filling a shopping basket with cans and bread and instant coffee.

Still. Geoff enjoyed the peace of the moment, knowing that it wouldn't be long now before they were back at it.

“Hey,” he said, finally managing to find Jack after having drifted away from him for a little while. He poked him in the side and Jack swatted at him. “Where's Michael?”

“Last saw him in the frozen food aisle- why the fuck do you have condoms in your shopping basket?”

“Because safe sex is important,” Geoff said, breezily. “Also if Michael and Ray don't make up soon we can just start throwing them at them.”

Jack shook his head. “You are awful. I'm actually starting to get really concerned about them. I know it was too much to hope that Michael would just take things in stride but if they actually do break up...” he trailed off, and Geoff sighed.

“I'll go talk to Michael.”

“I think that would be a good idea,” Jack said.

Geoff wandered off towards the frozen food aisle, where indeed he found Michael, who was doing little more but stand, deep in thought, staring at a _Weight Watcher's_ ready-to-eat tuna noodle gratin as though it held the secrets of the universe.

“The chicken casserole looks better,” Geoff commented, and Michael jumped a little, turning to look at him.

“I've eaten far too many of these in my life,” he said with a grin. “Downside of working terrible hours in terrible motels with nothing but terrible microwaves.”

“Tell me about it,” Geoff replied.

There was a beat of silence before Michael sighed heavily, reaching up to rub his temples, and Geoff took that as his cue to speak.

“I know about what's going on with you and Ray.”

Michael's head snapped up, eyes widening slightly in alarm. “What the fuck do you mean, you know?”

“I know. About Gavin and all that.”

“He fucking _told you_?!” Michael demanded, and Geoff shook his head.

“He told Jack. Jack told me. And I was the one who told him to tell you because he was _freaking the fuck out_ about it at the funfair when we got separated from the rest of you.” Geoff met Michael's eyes, gazing at him intently. “I mean it. He was on the verge of a fucking panic attack over it. You can't blame him for this, Michael – and you sure as fuck shouldn't be blaming Gav either.”

“I'm not blaming _anyone_ ,” Michael snapped, angry now. He started to turn away but Geoff grabbed his arm and wrenched him back around. Michael snatched his arm away, glowering.

“I'm _not blaming anyone_ ,” he repeated – shouting at first before registering that they were still in public, and lowering his voice to a hiss. “But excuse me for not being immediately okay with the fact that my boyfriend wants to fuck another guy. Not just that. Wants _me_ to want to fuck him as well.”

“That's not what it's about,” Geoff replied. He was growing irritable as well just on principle, but forced it down. Forced himself to remain stern but calm. “It's not about him wanting to _fuck_ Gavin.”

“Is that supposed to make it _better_?” Michael snarled. He pressed his fingers to his temples again – and Geoff's anger drained away, because he looked tired now. Wrung out like there was very little left in him to function with – the bruises streaked across his face from the fairground weren't helping to make him look any less vulnerable.

“You know,” Michael said then, bitterly, “If it _was_ just sex I think I could handle it.”

And Geoff – Geoff didn't have an answer to that, because his heart _ached_ for them suddenly as he realised just how messy this whole situation was. After dancing around each other for ages, Michael and Ray had only been together, what, a week? If that? Barely long enough for the word _love_ to genuinely enter the equation. And to have that same word now extending out to a third party – it was a lot to handle, and he couldn't blame Michael, or Ray, for being overwhelmed.

Michael was breathing heavily now.

“I want,” he began – but then his voice cracked a little. “ _He_ wants... me... _us_... I don't know.” The incoherency seemed to bother him, because he glared at Geoff again, as though his inability to sort his own thoughts out was somehow the other's fault.

“It doesn't fucking matter, anyway,” he said. “I'm working through it and it's not any of your fucking business, so.”

He could play the I'm-your-boss card. But he didn't want to.

“I'm asking,” Geoff said then, “Because I care.”

If anything that seemed to _embarrass_ Michael, as though the involvement of someone else was humiliating, and he scowled.

“Well, you can fucking save it,” he said, and turned, walking off back towards where Jack had been.

Geoff bit his lip, because he should be annoyed, he knew, at being blown off like that – but if anything he only felt _hurt_. And that surprised him.

 _Fuck it_ , he thought. At least – and this was a minor consolation – Michael wasn't so much angry and jealous about Ray's feelings as confused about how to fit them into their relationship. To work around them, or with them, or through them – unsure about how he himself felt about Gavin. Perhaps unwilling to acknowledge the obvious solution, or afraid of getting into something he wasn't sure about.

And even if anger was his outlet for that confusion, it wasn't _genuine_ anger.

It was a sliver of hope – a meagre one, but better than nothing.

 

* * *

 

The size of the flat was not ideal. Geoff could already tell that being trapped in a place so devoid of privacy was going to take its toll on all of them. But there was nothing they could do about it.

He realised quickly that the others were already carving out their own spaces, trying to get some sort of solitude out of things. Michael retreated into Gavin's bedroom as soon as they returned, dragging his bag of explosives with him and muttering about maintenance. Ryan was out on the small balcony, the door shut behind him, and they had passed Ray on the stairs on the way in. He didn't seem inclined to come back inside any time soon.

“How's it going, Gavvers?” Geoff asked, as he plonked two plastic bags of shopping down on the kitchen counter.

Gavin looked up from his computers, which he'd gotten up and running with impressive speed.

“I've got a lead on the gold that you can check out tomorrow. Mostly looking for Shadles now. He's a slippery son of a bitch, though.”

Geoff nodded, turning back to unpack the shopping, but he glanced back again when he saw Jack take a step towards Gavin.

“You okay?” Jack asked. “You look upset.”

Geoff whirled around, looking closer now – sure enough, there was something hard in the set of Gavin's mouth, something tense in his shoulders that went beyond his usual exhaustion or jumpiness.

“I'm fine,” Gavin replied, a little irritably, “Except that Ray and Michael are pissed at me and won't say why.”

“They're not pissed at you,” Geoff assured him, a bit too quickly, because Gavin's eyes zeroed in on him suspiciously.

“You know what's going on!” he cried, accusingly, and then looked at Jack, who couldn't quite conceal his expression fast enough. “And so do you! Bloody hell, am I the only one who _doesn't_? Leave the damn information guy out of the loop why don't you.”

“Gavin,” Jack said gently, and reached out, putting a hand on his shoulder. Geoff didn't miss the way Gavin automatically leaned into the touch. “It's not because of something you did, and they're not mad at you. But it's their personal business and they don't want you to know.”

“Ryan's past isn't your personal business and you still want to know,” Gavin grumbled. “Geoff. Tell me what's going on, Geoff.”

“No,” Geoff replied.

“Geeeeoff.”

“I said no!” He turned and began to pack away the groceries.

“Come on, Geoff, I'll pester you until you- ah, hey, don't!” This last breaking off into a rather shrill squeal. Gavin turned to see Jack poking at Gavin's neck and sides, tickling him until he doubled over and sent his computer chair scooting backwards to escape.

Geoff laughed. “That's what happens when you're an annoying little prick.”

“You're both horrid,” Gavin replied, wheeling himself back over and cautiously keeping one hand up to shield his neck from Jack – who was too busy laughing to bother attacking him again.

Gavin was smiling now, though, and that made Geoff smile too. He caught Jack's eyes and the sheer mirth in them only made Geoff grin wider. A wave of simple affection overtook him – for both of them.

Jack rose, then. “You have a washing machine, Gav?”

“There's a communal one down the corridor. Make sure you take coins.”

“Thanks.” Jack got up and went over to their suitcases, leaving the room shortly thereafter. Gavin turned back to his computer and Geoff resumed packing away the things they'd bought. A little time passed before his phone buzzed in his pocket.

He took it out and then paused.

 _Ben_.

Slowly he closed the door of the cupboard he'd been putting things in and walked over to Gavin, who was engrossed in what he was doing and didn't notice Geoff until he reached forward and took his headphones off.

“What's up?” Gavin asked, but then paused at the look on Geoff's face. “What, what is it? Bad news?”

“No,” Geoff replied. “The opposite, actually. My contact in England just got back to me. He's found Dan.”

Gavin's eyes widened, then darted to the phone in Geoff's hand. “You found him,” he repeated, and Geoff nodded.

“He was way off the radar, must be the job he was working on. But my guy's dug up a contact number.”

“Oh,” Gavin said. And then went very quiet for a moment.

Geoff shifted. “There's no rush. You don't have to call him right away-”

Gavin shook his head. “If it took that long to find him it's a temporary number. If I don't do it now he'll move again.” Geoff couldn't tell if he was happy or nervous as he reached out and took the phone from Geoff with a shaking hand.

“Hey,” he said gently, reaching out to grab his wrist before he could pull back. “Are you okay?”

Gavin nodded. He met Geoff's eyes and gave him a small, quick smile. “I'm good. Top.”

“Okay then. I'll give you some privacy.” He moved towards the door, gathering his belongings along the way, but couldn't help but pause just before leaving, watching from the corner of his eye as Gavin moved to sit on the couch, staring at the phone in his hand for a long moment before he finally dialled and put it to his ear.

Geoff knew he ought to go, but figured he should wait until Gavin connected, just in case something went wrong – it didn't work, or Ben had the wrong number – but a moment later Gavin's whole body went rigid as, it seemed, someone picked up on the other end of the line. For a moment he didn't seem to be breathing, looking as close to crying as Geoff had ever seen him. Then a wide, stupidly exhilarated smile stretched across his lips, and he literally _squirmed_ where he was sitting, one hand going up to half-cover his mouth, still grinning so widely Geoff thought he'd split his face in half.

“Hey, B.”


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is a bit late! (and that it's a bit less actiony than the others ahaha)

The first thing Gavin thought about Dan was that he was a stupid, thick-headed grunt who had nothing going for him except muscles and a moral compass skewed enough to not give a shit about killing people for a living.

To be fair, this was a judgement based entirely on appearances.

Gavin had been working for Andrew for almost a month now, though they'd only met face to face over the last fortnight or so. The job was to hunt down a member of his old crew who'd skipped out on them and ruined some weapons deals. Nothing Gavin hadn't done before, except this time – this time he just couldn't find the bastard, so he'd come in to join them at their little gang hideout, hoping his employer could give him some insight.

He was getting a bit closer now, which was why Andrew had thought it time to call in the hired guns. And when they walked into the room where Gavin was working, he looked up and gave a disdainful little scoff, because he'd been involved in enough high-profile jobs to get a read on people and these were the sort of mercs that you could buy a buck a dozen. Stupid, trigger-happy, and simple-minded. Perhaps there was a little bitterness in there somewhere too, because Gavin himself did not look exactly threatening or particularly impressive, and while he had never been _bullied_ , per say, he was more than used to people in this business looking down on him. Especially those who were more action-oriented.

So yes. He may or may not have said “Oh, here comes the block-head brigade,” a little _too_ loudly, because Andrew shot him an amused look and all of the mercenaries glanced over at him and gave him some of the most intense stink-eye he'd ever experienced. He swallowed a bit nervously, cursing his lack of a brain-to-mouth filter.

That was when his gaze fell upon Dan, who was the only one of the soldiers not glaring at him. Rather, he looked faintly bewildered, and when all the others went off to wrestle or clean their guns or whatever it was meat-headed grunts did in their spare time, he wandered over to where Gavin was sitting at the computer and stood there staring down at him.

“Uh, can I help you?” Gavin asked then, a little worried he was about to get punched.

“You're English!”

That was not what he had expected to come out of the other's mouth. Neither was the British accent.

He pulled his headphones off from around his neck and turned fully in his chair to look up at the other man. And there was something almost charming about him, now that he didn't have him lumped in with the other mercs – he was young, as young as Gavin himself, with a boyish grin and something very friendly about his face.

“You too!” Gavin replied, “Where are you from?”

“Oxfordshire.”

“ _Dude, same here_!”

And then for a moment they just sort of grinned at each other in united Oxfordshire-ness, which was possibly the most surreal way Gavin had ever made a new friend.

“Dan Gruchy,” the man introduced himself then, and went so far as to hold out a hand that Gavin shook eagerly.

“Nice to meet you Dan Gruchy. Gavin Free.”

“You're the data guy, right? Hack into security footage and all that,” Dan said, peering over at the screen.

“That's about right,” Gavin replied – and tensed a little, then, because these b-list mercenaries could be weird about that, sometimes. Especially if they didn't work with specialists often – it didn't help that Gavin was young, and foreign, and more often than not it was only the people who'd directly employed him who could make their hired muscle listen to what he had to say.

But Dan just grinned wider. “I've seen people do that before. Fucking clever stuff. You getting anywhere with it?”

“Sort of,” Gavin said, and started to explain – getting a little more enthusiastic when Dan appeared genuinely interested.

And that was the start of it, really.

Gavin had never really had anyone look up to him before, especially not someone who was probably capable of breaking him in half, but for whatever reason – maybe because he, too, didn't quite fit in with the other mercs – Dan latched onto him like a baby duckling. He was endlessly intrigued by Gavin's work, spent a great deal of time following him around and watching him, and remained consistently impressed even when Gavin made mistakes, or spent frustrated sleepless nights unable to dig up any new information.

Gavin could be thick at times but he knew he wasn't actually stupid; he was good at what he did – one of the best in the field, in fact – but it still felt _nice_ , to have someone else acknowledge that. And he got to know Dan more as well – learned that he was actually pretty skilled himself. Anyone could just acquire an unlicensed weapon and start taking hits, but Dan was ex-military and knew exactly what he was doing. The only reason he was on this relatively low-paying job was because he was new in the country and not particularly well known yet.

“Hey B,” Dan said one night – the nickname had stuck after the other, older mercs started deprecatingly calling both of them 'boy'; they took the venom out of it by using it ironically on each other, and then used it _too_ much and found they couldn't stop. “Did Andrew pay you upfront?”

Gavin glanced over at him, confused. They were the only ones awake in the hideout; he'd struck a lead and was following it up even if it was 3am and he was running on Red Bull. He was grateful for Dan's company, even if it mostly consisted of poking him in the side whenever he started falling asleep.

“Paid me half upfront,” he replied. “And the rest once the job's done. That's how I normally work. Why?”

“Has anyone ever not paid you afterwards?” Dan asked, with a frown.

“No? Why? You think he's gonna try skip out on me?” He hit a few keys and then took his headphones off properly, waiting for what he was doing to load as he turned his full attention to his friend.

Dan shook his head. “Just wondering. A lot of these people are snakes, you know that. He doesn't pay _me_ , I can come after him. But you...”

“What? I look easy to take advantage of?” Gavin mock-scowled and Dan laughed a bit, but he still looked concerned. “Nah, don't worry about it. They know that if they screw me over I can wreck them. Hunt them down, leak information on their whereabouts to the police or their enemies or what-have-you. I don't need to hold a gun to someone's head when I've got data.”

“Look at you, little badass computer nerd,” Dan teased, and Gavin kicked at his chair a bit. “But seriously, B, you could get in trouble one day.”

“What's that mean, then?”

“You don't even know how to shoot a gun and you're hanging out with this lot.”

“Survived this long, haven't I?”

“I'm just saying.”

And Gavin would have been embarrassed, usually, because it was true – he'd gotten this far on his own, and he'd been out in the field a good few times but there'd never been any particularly close calls. If something did happen, which it probably would eventually... well, he was woefully ill-equipped to deal with any sort of physical conflict.

But it was three in the morning and he was too tired to bother flustering about trying to preserve his masculinity, so he just shrugged.

“Well. I've got you to stand up for me, don't I?”

It slipped out, only half-joking, except Dan froze, then nodded, looking rather more serious than Gavin had expected.

“I would, you know. If it came to it.”

Gavin stared at him, something oddly warm swelling in his chest. He found he _believed_ the other man, strangely, even if they'd only known each other a couple of months by now – it had been a long job, longer than most, and he had never really gotten so close to a co-worker before. He'd made friends, sure, but not anyone he'd ever really felt he could trust with his life.

“Thanks,” he said then, and gave a wide, rather silly grin that Dan returned. “Aww, that's sweet.”

“Shut up,” Dan laughed, and kicked back at him, and at that moment the computer finished with what it was doing and Gavin turned back to it.

He forgot that conversation quite soon afterwards.

Until Barry.

Gavin had tracked their man to the old warehouses and canneries out near the docks. The monitoring he'd done over the past few weeks had shown him running with another gang, so it was a good thing Andrew had hired so many guns to bring along. Gavin didn't come out to the field with them, and there weren't enough cameras in the area for him to be of any use monitoring them, so he wound up hanging around back at the hideout in case the hit failed and they needed him to track down their guy again.

They were gone for several hours, longer than he'd anticipated, but he waited it out, knowing things went wrong sometimes.

But when cars finally pulled back into the lot he realised instantly that things had gone _badly_ wrong – Andrew came crashing into the hideout with only two others with him and none of the mercs in tow.

“What's going on?” Gavin demanded, jumping up – they were all splattered with blood, one of them limping badly, looking frantic as all hell.

“We fucked up,” Andrew spat, rushing across the room to the weapons cabinet, where he began to stuff a bag full of supplies. “ _You_ fucked up, how did you not realise he was with Barry?!”

“Barry?” Gavin questioned, confused.

“Only the most powerful smuggler this side of the country,” Andrew replied. “He's after us now, we've pissed him off. If you know what's good for you you'll get the fuck out of here.”

“Where's Dan?” Gavin demanded then – and he was starting to feel worried, now. Not scared, not quite yet – still a little in shock over how fast things had deteriorated – he couldn't bring himself to do much more than stand there stupidly watching Andrew pack all his things up.

“I don't know where your precious boyfriend's gone. Probably split with the rest of them.” Andrew turned, shoving Gavin back out of the way as he made a beeline towards the car, his henchmen following.

Gavin half-stepped after him only to pause, awkwardly. “Where are you going?”

“I don't know,” Andrew tossed back over his shoulder. “Fucking Portland? As far away from here as possible?”

“What about me?”

Andrew rolled his eyes. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a handful of bills and chucked them at Gavin. “Job's done, kid, there's your money. Now save your skin. Or don't, maybe he finds you he'll leave the rest of us alone.”

“ _What_?”

Andrew wasn't listening to him anymore, and seconds later he was driving off, leaving Gavin standing alone in the abandoned hideout, confused and beginning to freak the fuck out.

 _Fuck. Fuck, okay, what – what the bloody hell do I do now?_ And he half-reached for his phone to call Dan, except he knew from experience that phoning someone while they were in the middle of a job could be dangerous. Better to wait for him to call.

 _I can't stay here_. People could move _fast_ , he'd seen it, and Andrew had skipped out quickly enough that he was worried. And for a moment he just _dithered_ , unsure if he should be going back home, or reporting back to Burnie, or just _running_ – if he should move interstate or cover his tracks. Hiding out somewhere then looking into things, seeing if Barry knew his name and whether anyone was specifically after him – that was his best option. But he had no vehicle, so he was forced to eventually set out on foot.

Andrew had been in a hurry for a reason. Gavin made it a grand total of three blocks before he was grabbed.

The weeks that followed were the worst of his life, and he would later go on to mentally repress a lot of it. There was pain. _God_ there was pain, because Barry was not happy that Andrew and the others had taken out a couple of his men, and now that he had one of the people responsible he inflicted a creative variety of punishments. The worst part was perhaps not even getting roughed up for Andrew's sins but being forced to _work_ for the smuggler. Kneeling at his feet like a chained dog, getting him what he wanted, flinching whenever he took too long in expectation of a kick or a beating or a lash across his back.

He thought of Dan the first few days – _I would, you know, if it came to it_ – half-hoped to see him come busting in guns-blazing to the rescue.

But he didn't – not for a few weeks, at least, weeks that felt a lot longer than they were, and by the end of it Gavin had blocked most everything out. Slipped back inside his own head and gone pretty catatonic, and when an explosion finally rocked wherever-the-fuck it was he was being kept, he at first thought it was a dream.

It was not a dream. The rattle of gunfire was not a dream, the shouts and thudding boots, and for a while as he sat, huddled in the corner of the tiny storage room he was kept in when not working, he thought it was the police, and for whatever strange, incoherent reason his first thought was _if they find me they'll deport me_ , which probably would not be so bad at this point.

But it was not the police who kicked down the door, it was Dan. Beautiful, glorious Dan who took one look at him and let out a stream of profanities so creative that Gavin's vocabulary doubled on the spot.

“Fuck. Fuck, fuck, _fuck_ B, what the fuck did they _do_ to you?” He was by Gavin's side in an instant, crouching down by him – and looked stricken when Gavin flinched back automatically.

“- _real_?” was all Gavin managed to croak out, voice a little hoarse from disuse, and Dan barked out a laugh that was just the wrong side of hysterical.

“Fuck yeah I'm real. Jesus Christ, Gavin, I...” his hands reached out, fluttering uselessly across his body, not wanting to touch and make things worse. “Okay. Fuck. Can you walk?”

“Can do bloody anything if it means getting out of here.” And it was remarkable how quickly the mere _hope_ of escape had brought him back towards the light a little.

It hurt to stand up and it hurt more to walk, and he dry heaved a great deal when they got into the main warehouse area and he saw the bodies littering the floor. The explosion, it seemed, had been a grenade. Grenades did not do nice things to the human anatomy.

When Dan's eyes fell upon Barry's corpse, sprawled a few metres away, his face clouded over and he paused, lowering Gavin down to sit on the floor. Said “Wait here,” and walked over, and began viciously kicking and beating the body, emptying a few more rounds into it.

Every thud of his boot against the corpse made Gavin flinch.

“Dan – stop, Dan. _Stop_ , please stop.”

Dan turned immediately and came back over to him. “Sorry – I'm sorry, just. _Fuck_. I want to kill him again, B. I want to kill him ten fucking more times. I'm sorry. _I'm sorry_.”

“What are you sorry for? Got me out didn't you?” It was a weak attempt at good humour but it fell flat as Dan shook his head, something like guilt in his eyes.

“Should've come for you sooner. I thought you'd got out – I thought you were hiding somewhere like the rest of them, like _I_ was. Then I heard he had you. Took me a bit to track him down, too.”

Gavin looked around at the carnage. “You took them all down by yourself?”

“I'm a one man army.”

“Dan the man.”

“That's right.” He looped an arm around Gavin's waist again, lifted him with ease. “You need a hospital?”

“I need to go home.”

So Dan took him home.

 

* * *

 

 

“Gavin?”

Dan's voice was tinny, crackling with static and lagging slightly over the international line. It was the most beautiful sound Gavin had ever heard.

For a moment he could do nothing but just sit there, hand still clapped over his mouth, breathing heavily. He felt nervous and sick and wasn't even sure why – his hand had been trembling when he pressed the call button, and he could only put it down to the fact that it had been, what, four, nearly five months now. So long without contacting the other and he had been half-afraid that getting back in touch with him, hearing his voice, would somehow make him regress back to how he'd been when Dan had last seen him; mad with exhaustion and constantly either drunk or anxious. Having more than one panic attack a day.

But it didn't – the other man's voice settled and stilled something in him, and he let out a long, slow breath. Tried to stop his hands from shaking.

“Gav?” Dan said, again. “That you, B?”

“It's me.” His voice was shaking too, now. He started to laugh and then couldn't stop. “It's me, it's me, _fuck_ you're hard to track down. I'm using a temporary phone.”

“I figured.” And Dan started laughing too then, nervous and relieved all at once. “Jesus Christ, are you – are you okay? What's going on?”

“Can you talk right now?” That was still at the forefront of his mind – it was always risky calling someone while they were on the job, but Dan just scoffed.

“Course I can talk. What's up? Are you alright? Sorry I haven't been in touch, I tried to call your flat once but you weren't there.”

“I've been on a job,” Gavin began, and there was an immediate explosion of curses.

“ _What the fuck_. _Why._ Why – are you okay, did something happen-”

“I'm fine. Dan, I'm fine, I just. Wanted to talk to you.”

There was a moment of silence as they both just sat, listening to each other breathing. And Gavin still couldn't help the silly, stupid smile that was permanently affixed to his face. It had been hard, Dan going back to England and leaving him behind. But an old boss of his - someone he owed a lot - had needed his help, and he’d had little choice. Perhaps Gavin should have gone back with him, but the stress of relocating had seemed too much. He’d been lethargic at the time, apathetic. Didn’t want to do much more than sit on the couch or in bed all day, licking his wounds. Trying to _forget_.

“What job are you working on?” Dan asked then, something a little frantic in his tone. “Are you safe?”

Gavin hesitated, because _safe_ was not exactly how he’d describe the Edgar situation.

“I’m with people who’ll keep me safe,” he settled on. “I’m working for Geoff Ramsey.”

“Ramsey? Isn’t he one of the biggest names over there?” Dan asked, a little aghast, and Gavin nodded before realising the other couldn’t see him.

“Yeah - yeah, he is. He’s a good guy, Dan, he… he cares about me.”

“Gav…” Dan’s tone was cautious, and Gavin bit his lip.

“He’s the one who tracked you down for me so I could talk to you. And I got… taken, again, by someone and he. He came after me.”

“Fuck - you’re alright though?”

“I’m fine. I’m… better. Than I was. But what about you? How much longer will you be over there?”

“Couple more weeks at the very least,” Dan replied - and conversation devolved from there. They didn’t talk about their jobs any more, discussed practically anything but. England, or stupid things they’d seen recently, even things as mundane as the weather. Gavin was just glad to hear Dan’s voice again; to know he was safe and okay and still there. Coming back, eventually.

He wasn’t sure how much time passed before they finally fell into silence, conversation exhausted.

“It must be nearly one there,” Gavin realised. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you up.”

“Don’t say sorry,” Dan replied, automatically. His voice dropped into something far more serious. “But B… tell me seriously, are you okay?”

Gavin’s mouth went suddenly dry as he recalled the exact reason Geoff had helped him arrange this call. “I… I’m still not sleeping too well. Some… some shit happened, I’m fine but. Still keep thinking about it.” A frustrated sigh. “I just... feel like I’m stuck in a rut, like I’m not making _progress_ and this is where it just… it just _stops_. That’s as good as it gets. I’ll never be over it.”

Dan was silent for a long moment.

“Gav, who are you with?"

“What do you mean?”

“Right now. Who are you working with?”

“Geoff Ramsey and Jack Pattillo. You’ll have heard of them. Two other mercenaries, Ray and Michael.” He paused before deciding not to mention Ryan specifically. They’d talked about the mad mercenary before and he knew Dan was very wary of him. They’d both heard the rumours. “And this one other guy. Another merc.”

“You trust them.” It was a statement, not a question.

And it was only talking to Dan that Gavin realised that that was a pretty big deal for him, after what had happened with Andrew and Barry. Part of the reason he’d gone six months without taking a single job until this one was because he couldn’t bring himself to ever rely on an employer again. That fact that he did genuinely trust Geoff - trusted all of them - it was something.

“Yeah,” he said, quietly. “I do.”

“Okay,” Dan said. “Listen to me, alright?”

“What is it?”

“Gav. This whole conversation we just had, talking to you after all these months… you might not believe it but you sound a hundred times better than you did when I left you.”

Gavin blinked a few times, struck silent.

“I mean it,” Dan said. “I don’t know whether it’s just the time passing, or if this Ramsey has done something for you, but it’s like… your spirit’s back, or something. Maybe you think you’re not making progress but _Jesus Christ_ can I see it. Or, hear it, whatever.”

Gavin scoffed out a slightly hysterical laugh, but Dan shushed him.

“Don’t laugh. I mean it, I’m not messin’ about. I mean for fuck’s sake, you’re _working_ again, you _trust_ these people - when I last saw you I could barely get you to leave the apartment.”

That was true, Gavin realised, and the stupidest surge of _hope_ coursed through him.

“You say this Geoff cares about you,” Dan said.

“Yeah,” Gavin replied. “They… they all do, I think.”

“Good,” Dan said then, firmly. “Sounds like they’re taking care of you alright, then. I’ll be back as soon as I can, okay? Keep your chin up in the meantime. And think about what I said.”

“Okay,” Gavin said.

He didn’t want to hang up, and it seemed like Dan didn’t want to either. Again they remained, comforted by the knowledge that the other was right there on the other end of the line.

“I’ll try call that phone again next I can,” Dan said eventually. “If you’ve still got it. Otherwise… see you soon.” He said it with a confidence that made Gavin smile.

“See you soon, B.”

Dan hung up and he slowly lowered the phone from his ear. The adrenaline had drained from his body, leaving him shaky and exhausted. But he felt better than he had in a while.

Every time he tried to sleep he had been plagued by memories of Barry, of Edgar, of the duck and the terrible murder he’d witnessed.

But Dan was right. He still wasn’t as bad as he’d been that first time. He was _recovering_. Slowly, maybe, but still recovering. And what was it Geoff had said? _Scars fade_. He was right. Gavin just had to believe it.

He was still smiling when he got up from the couch and stretched, stiff from sitting in the one spot for so long. With half of the others out, he suddenly realised how oddly silent the apartment was. Michael was still shut away in the bedroom, and Ryan - Ryan was still standing out on the balcony.

Gavin’s eyes landed on the other man, or what he could see of him through the balcony doors. Even from his distance he could see how stiff his shoulders were, and a sudden pang struck him.

He was beyond relieved they were back on friendly terms after the awkwardness of the kiss - _the kiss_ , which he somehow still couldn’t stop thinking about. Couldn’t quite bring himself to regret, even if at the time he’d fled.

Even thinking about it now his heart starting beating a little faster. And he had been scared, before - unsure what Ryan thought about him. What he himself felt.

Talking to Dan had solidified it a little in his mind. He trusted Ryan as much as he trusted the others. Cared about him. And knew, somehow for certain, that even if he wouldn’t admit it, Ryan felt the same way about him.

These revelations about himself had him in the spirit of goodwill, and suddenly he felt like he should help Ryan. And he could tell, because it was his job to be able to tell, that the other man had been a little down lately. Since they took out the duck. He was hiding it very well, but Gavin could see it - could sense a nervous sort of apprehension taking hold of him as their mission wound to a close and they got closer and closer to Edgar.

 _Edgar_. Since Geoff asked him to investigate Ryan’s past, he had looked into it more deeply. And he hadn’t been able to find specifics about his old team, but some things had come up. No names and very few faces, but he’d caught glimpses of them. They were nothing particularly special - a close-knit group of criminals who officiated the smuggling of weapons through a small city. The most powerful people in that area, but in the scheme of things, small fish in a big pond. There had been a couple of mercenaries, as well as a hacker-slash-accountant who had been very good at covering their tracks, effectively preventing Gavin from probing any deeper.

 _All dead_.

It had been messy, from what he could tell. Edgar had been brutal and wiped out anyone even _associated_ with those guys. He’d planted his own men in the town - Beardo one of the top dogs, the Corpirate also helping to funnel money through to Edgar’s funds - but since they started taking him down his hold had been slipping a little.

And there hadn’t been much to see, but Gavin had caught bits of it. And he hadn’t told Geoff this yet, hadn’t quite found the time - but he’d gathered that the main reason Edgar had managed to take them down so quickly and brutally was because he’d caught one of the crew and used them as leverage for the others. Had threatened to hurt them - and then hurt them anyway, and all the rest.

That was the part that had made Gavin’s stomach drop. Christ, it was no wonder Ryan had issues.

Ryan was obviously struggling now, wrapped in his own thoughts and desire for revenge, and Gavin took a breath, scrubbing his hands against his jeans before he moved to open the balcony door.

Ryan turned as soon as he heard him, and Gavin hovered in the doorway, a little awkwardly.

“Hey,” he said, and Ryan raised a hand in greeting.

“You don’t have much of a view,” he commented - indeed, the balcony just looked out onto the courtyard behind the apartment block.

Gavin shrugged. “It’s cheap and discreet, so.”

“Are you alright?” Ryan peered at him closer, taking a step forward. “You look… weird.”

“ _Weird_?” Gavin spluttered indignantly, before laughing. “I’ve just talked to Dan,” he admitted. “He’s fine. It was good to catch up. He’s coming back as soon as he can.”

“I’m glad he’s safe,” Ryan said - and there was something sincere in it that made Gavin’s smile widen. He wished suddenly that Ryan had his mask off, that he could see if the other man was smiling too - before kicking himself.

 _Every time that damn mask comes off we end up snogging,_ he thought, then regretted letting that spring back into his mind.

“Are _you_ alright?” he asked then.

“Fine.” He answered a little too quickly and Gavin shot him a stern, disbelieving look. He stepped out of the doorway, motioning for Ryan to come back inside, and was a little surprised when the other man actually obeyed, heading back in and leaning against the wall. And now that he’d brought it up, he saw the tension rising in Ryan’s shoulders again, a fidgety agitation to his movements.

“We’re really close now,” he found himself blurting out. And bloody hell, he was really bad at thinking of meaningful things to say - at composing things carefully before speaking them, but now he just had an earnest need to somehow make Ryan feel better. “It’ll be good for you to rest once this is over.”

“You too,” Ryan replied easily, but there was something guarded in it. “We can all take a long holiday.”

“You must be kind of nervous,” Gavin continued - and Ryan shifted against the wall. With the mask on Gavin couldn’t tell if he was amused or offended. “About killing Edgar and all. I mean, that’s okay. You shouldn’t overthink it. We’re gonna plan and stuff before we face off with him, of course-”

“Gav,” Ryan said. His tone was patient but there was something a little stern in it too. “I know what you’re doing.”

“You do?” Truth be told, Gavin himself didn’t quite know what he was doing.

“You’re right. I’m thinking about it a lot. But you don’t need to worry about it. This is what I have to do. Get my head in the game. Make sure I’m focused. It’s the home stretch now - as they say. _From this time forth my thoughts be bloody or be nothing worth_ and all that.”

“Okay, Hamlet,” Gavin replied, fairly dubiously. And at least Ryan wasn’t going all extreme-vigilante like he had back at the Corpirate’s mansion, but Gavin still didn’t quite like this darker, intent side of him. He wasn’t _scared_ of it - Ryan had chosen him over Edgar once before, after all. If anything, it concerned him. “Okay, I get that, but just keep in mind that we’re a team, alright?”

He moved closer and rested a hand on Ryan’s arm, smiling. “You don’t have to hold this whole thing on your shoulders. We’re gonna take him down together. It won’t be like last time.”

Ryan went very stiff, and for a moment Gavin thought it was because he’d touched him - but the next thing he knew, the man was pushing off the wall, hands coming up to grip Gavin’s shoulders tightly.

Ryan leaned down so their faces were level, suddenly very close - and Gavin could see the way his eyes had hardened behind the mask.

“What do you mean,” he asked, voice low, dangerous - “It won’t be like last time?”

 _Fuck_ , Gavin thought, realising he’d slipped up.

“I...” he began. And then couldn’t quite think of an excuse, and sort of stammered unintelligibly for a moment in the vain hope that if Ryan couldn’t understand his incoherent mumblings he would just drop the subject.

He did not.

What he did do was shake Gavin a little, grip still tight, fingers digging into his shoulders through the fabric of his jacket. “What the hell do you know about _last time_?” he repeated.

Gavin was starting to feel uneasy now, realising that _shit_ , he’d crossed a line - a line he’d hoped had started fading away by now, but he could practically _see_ all of Ryan’s walls slamming back up and _this wasn’t a good idea, this bloody well wasn’t a good idea_.

He looked away and could tell the moment Ryan realised.

“You looked me up,” he spat. He sounded angry - betrayed - _scared_ , Gavin realised. “You fucking _looked me up_. How much do you know?”

  
“The… the gist of it,” Gavin stammered. “I know he - I know he got hold of one of your old team, used them against you - threatened you. So I get why you… I understand-”

“ _You don’t understand a fucking thing_.” Ryan shook him harder then, hard enough that it hurt, and Gavin’s hands came up to grip his wrists. And shit, he could _see_ that Ryan was distressed, that his anger sprang from - from fear, and stress, and things that just like Gavin he had bottled up inside and never let out, but Gavin wasn’t Dan, or Geoff, he wasn’t good with words - he didn’t know what to say to calm him down.

“You had _no right_ ,” Ryan growled.

Gavin stared up at him. Unease had been replaced by nervousness now, and though some inherent part of him insisted that Ryan would never hurt him, it was a little hard to believe when the other was looming over him so threateningly, grip painfully tight on his arms. He struggled not to flinch.

“Technically,” he found himself stuttering out, “If information is out there it’s free to- _ah_!”

He broke off with a shout as Ryan shoved him violently backwards. It was a sudden, abrupt push - something almost frantic in it, something almost afraid - and the other man was larger, stronger, the force of it sending Gavin flying backwards to land sprawled on the floor with a _thud_.

Because the universe had fantastic timing, that was the moment Geoff and Jack walked back in, and there was a moment of very frozen silence as they all took in the situation.

Gavin’s heart was slamming in his chest; he couldn’t move - shocked more than anything else. Falling hadn’t been that painful but what _had_ hurt was Ryan pushing him away, in the figurative as well as physical sense. Part of him had thought… part of him had _hoped_ that the other man would, would open up, or something. That they were close enough by now for Ryan to let his walls down.

Realising he’d been mistaken about that - _that_ was what made his gut twist.

The bedroom door slammed open, breaking the silence, and Michael rushed out, having heard the commotion.

“The fuck’s going on out here?” he demanded.

It seemed that was the catalyst for Geoff to start forward, fists clenched, moustache practically bristling in anger as he made for Ryan. Gavin could see exactly how mad he was - couldn’t exactly fault him when he’d walked in to find Ryan in a rage and Gavin, well, lying on the floor cowering.

“Wait. Geoff, wait!” Jack snapped, grabbing Geoff’s arm and practically yanking him backwards. Geoff rounded on him and their eyes met in some silent communication that Gavin couldn’t quite work out. His gaze was fixed on Ryan, anyway - Ryan, who was standing in silence, fists clenched by his sides, breathing so heavily that Gavin could see his chest heaving.

And there was something about it that made it impossible for him to be mad at the other man - because he didn’t seem angry. Well, he did, but more than that he seemed - panicked, almost, the way Gavin got sometimes when he let his mind accidentally drift back towards things he’d rather not think about.

He was overtaken by concern and scrambled to his feet. Stupidly, he half-started forward as though to reach out to Ryan again, but a hand wrapped around his arm and tugged him back.

“Gav,” Michael said quietly - and jerked his head over Gavin’s shoulder. Gavin followed his gaze and realised Jack was waving a hand, trying to shoo them out of the room. Something a little disappointed sank in his stomach, but he quickly shoved it away as stupid. Jack and Ryan were close, after all - Jack could calm him down better than Gavin ever could. And he was stupid, _stupid_ to have brought this up in the first place - what comfort could he be? He never knew what to say.

Michael let go of his arm but a second later Geoff’s hand was on his back, something protective in the way his fingers curled around Gavin’s shoulder and he ushered him out of the flat.

 

* * *

 

 

The door shut quietly behind the others and a tense, awkward silence fell over the apartment. But after a moment it faded away into something else – something heavy and tired and lethargic, and Ryan took a step back and let himself fall to sit on the couch, leaning forward and putting his head in his hands.

Jack watched him in concern. His shoulders were heaving with deep, ragged breaths. Jack hadn't seen him less put together since just after the Corpirate's mansion. Even then he hadn't seemed so panicked, so frenzied.

And God, where did this even spring from? Ryan had been fine – _better_ than fine; Jack had thought he was just starting to open up to them.

 _Maybe that's the problem_.

He realised it with a sinking sort of feeling. It had to be hard – terrifying, even – for someone so closed off, someone who'd put up barriers bigger than the Great Wall of China, to come to terms with having those walls torn down. There would be ups and downs and it looked like getting closer to Edgar, closing in on their target, had triggered one massive down.

His heart ached for Ryan – he longed to help, to somehow reassure him – but he was also wary of just how volatile the mad mercenary could be. So he approached slowly, cautiously, hands raised. Slow steps like he was encroaching on a feral dog.

Ryan didn't so much as glance up at him as he said – voice low, controlled, toneless - “Did you put him up to this?”

“What do you mean?” Jack replied, carefully.

“Gavin. Did you put him up to this? Looking into my past?”

 _Shit_ , thought Jack, realising exactly what that whole confrontation had just been about. He sighed heavily, running his hands over his face.

“Sort of,” he said then. “It was Geoff's idea, to be honest. Don't be angry at Gav. We were just trying... we just wanted to understand you more.”

Ryan scoffed, humourlessly.

“ _Understand_ ,” he said, something bitter and angry in his voice. “What the fuck is there to understand. I had a team. And now I don't. Edgar killed them. What more is there to it?”

“Of course there's more to it.” He took another step forwards, close enough now to reach out and touch Ryan if he'd wanted to. But he didn't. Kept his distance, carefully. “You were close to them. That matters.”

“Does it?” Ryan asked. “Doesn't fucking matter _now_. It didn't _help_ them.”

“It matters to me,” Jack said. “It matters because you're close to _us_ now – don't you dare fucking deny it,” he added quickly, when he saw Ryan let out an almost petulant huff. “I get it, okay, you're scared. Don't care about anyone else and you can't get hurt. But that's not going to happen. We're going to _win_ this.”

“That's what we thought last time,” Ryan said – and laughed, a terrible, agitated laugh full of so much anger that it made Jack's blood run cold. “They were... they were such a small gang, you know? Nothing compared to you guys. I guess that's why I joined them, I was sick of the big jobs I was doing. Wanted something easy.” He paused, scoffed. “ _Easy_. I built them up, much as I could. It was... nice. Working with people. They weren't power-hungry, either, I've never been about that. Then along came Edgar. And he blew our fucking house down.”

Jack remained silent. The words were spilling from Ryan's lips like he could barely control them, like they'd been bottled up for too long, and he knew that if he interrupted now the other would clam up and that would be the end of it.

“We thought we could win,” Ryan repeated – and he sounded so tired now. Tired and _defeated_ in a way that Jack didn't like, because it was so uncharacteristic of him.

“But in the end...” His fists clenched. “All he needed was one of us. _One_ , and the rest folded like cards. Do you _see_ , now?”

“I see,” Jack replied, quietly – Ryan's head lifted and Jack met his eyes, and they were so full of pain that for a moment Jack felt it himself, acute and unbearable – he couldn't even imagine what it would be like to lose their entire crew. Kdin, Lindsay, Kerry, Caleb. _Geoff_. Or even their current group- God, the thought of Edgar catching one of them – the thought of what he might have done with Gavin if they hadn't rescued him when they did. It killed him.

And it had been killing Ryan for the last however-many years, and now Jack could practically _see_ it in the slump of his shoulders, the tense line of his muscles and the sheer _exhaustion_ in his eyes.

Without thinking, he stepped forward and hugged the other man.

Ryan let out a startled _oomph_ as he suddenly found himself pulled against Jack's chest. He went very still and very stiff but Jack hung on. Wrapped his arms around him and pulled him as close as he could. He felt Ryan twitch, then shudder, then the other's hands come up to fist in the front of his shirt, and braced himself to be shoved away – but to his surprise, after a moment Ryan just sort of clung to him. Sat there shaking in his embrace – the tension slowly leaching from his shoulders.

Maybe it was because Ryan was always so stoic, so guarded, but seeing all his walls drop that suddenly – there was something intensely vulnerable about it, and before Jack even knew what he was doing he was lowering his head as though to press a gentle kiss to the top of his head.

He caught himself before he could, though – wondered what the _fuck_ he'd been thinking – and settled his hands around Ryan's back instead, his heart suddenly slamming in his chest.

The movement had jostled Ryan, though, and abruptly he pulled back, going stiff again as though he'd just realised what he was doing.

“I...” he began, then trailed off, ducking his head away. _Embarrassed._

Jack smiled kindly at him. “It's okay, you know-”

He broke off as Ryan rose from the couch.

“I know,” he said quickly. “Thank you, Jack. We, ah. Do not need to talk about this.”

And with that, he rushed off into the bathroom, leaving Jack staring after him. For a moment he felt faintly bewildered, then he just sighed. It figured that Ryan would feel awkward about losing control to such an extent – about exposing himself so much.

Again he felt that odd tug, the urge to protect – an intense, burning affection the same way he'd felt when Michael was injured. The more Ryan opened up to him the more his desire to get closer to the other man seemed to increase.

He bit his lip. He knew what it fucking meant, he wasn't oblivious. _Not yet. Not while he's still so worked up about things_.

Sighing, he rose from the couch and made his way out of the flat.

Geoff, Michael and Gavin were sitting on the stairs a little way away, talking quietly among themselves. They looked up when Jack approached, Geoff's eyebrows rising questioningly – _is he okay?_ \- and Jack gave a nod.

“Ryan's fine,” he said. “I calmed him down a bit.” He glanced down at Gavin, whose shoulders had slumped in relief. “You alright?”

Gavin nodded. “I didn't mean to set him off.”

“Not your fault,” Jack said. “It was bound to happen the closer we got to Edgar. Give him a bit to gather himself before you go back in. Where's Ray?” he added. His gaze went to Michael, who looked away immediately, but it was Geoff who answered.

“He's further down the stairs,” he said, nodding his head down towards the lower levels. “In the foyer.”

Jack nodded and made his way down. A creeping worry for Ray had overcome him. They hadn't had the chance to talk properly since before the funfair, and the tension between he and Michael was starting to get to Jack.

Ray was sitting at the bottom of the stairs in the foyer, knees up and head down. Jack frowned as he approached. He didn't look like a top-branch sniper or a deadly assassin. He just looked young, and sad, and very tired.

“Ray,” he said quietly. Ray must have known he was approaching, but he still jumped when Jack rested a hand on his shoulder before settling down next to him.

“Everything okay up there?” Ray asked. “Heard the others coming out before.”

“Everything's fine,” Jack replied. “We're about to meet back up, see where Gavin's at with everything.”

The mention of Gavin made Ray flinch, and Jack frowned a bit. He jostled the other man with his elbow until Ray looked up at him.

“Hey,” Jack said. “I know it seems like everything sucks right now, but Michael will have to make his mind up eventually. It's just the waiting that's killing you, and all waiting ends eventually.”

“I'm just fucking up left right and centre,” Ray admitted. “I had a fight with Gav. Well, sort of.”

“He'll be fine,” Jack assured him – Geoff had told him that he'd finally managed to find Dan for Gavin, and given that it had been some hours since he assumed the two of them had talked over the phone already. That, and the business with Ryan, would probably have effectively distracted him from any resentment over whatever happened with Ray. “And it's okay to feel upset, or angry, or what have you.”

“Try guilty as fuck.”

“No, not guilty.” Jack wrapped his arm tighter around Ray's shoulders. “You were honest with him. I know Michael will appreciate that. Geoff talked to him earlier – he's not so much angry with you as he is trying to work out how _he_ feels about all that. And that can be scary. For _both_ of you. Trying to sort out your feelings, come to terms with them. Maybe you need to be apart to do that. But you should be sorting things out with yourself, not worrying over Michael.”

“How am I even meant to _do_ that?” Ray asked, and Jack let out a stream of breath through his nose.

“Okay. Okay. Well, you already had the fun experience of figuring out that you liked Michael as more than a friend. You might not have known Gavin as long, but...” he trailed off when he noticed Ray's eyes dart away quickly, almost guiltily. “What?”

Ray was silent.

Jack stared at him, confused – but then it clicked.

“It's not just Gavin,” he said slowly, aghast, and the way Ray's eyes dropped even further only confirmed his suspicions. Started something strange and nervous in his stomach. “It's not just... Gavin.”

“Oh, God,” Ray groaned, and buried his head in his hands.

“Jesus Christ, Ray,” Jack murmured – and then when Ray flinched again, he quickly added, “I didn't mean it like – I'm not horrified or anything, just... shit. That's. That's just really complicated. Ryan?” he asked, because if it wasn't Ryan that meant it was...

That meant it was...

He bit his lip. Because by all means – by all means that thought that Ray might like himself or Geoff should have made him uncomfortable, insofar as that they'd have to turn him down and it would be awkward and probably make it difficult to work together.

But it didn't.

If anything – if anything something hopeful, almost excited set in. Small and vague at the back of his mind, but still _there_.

 _Shit,_ Jack thought.

Ray just shook his head again. “I don't want to talk about it,” he said, voice muffled by his hands. “I don't... it's not... I _know_ I like Gavin. That's a solid problem I have. I'm not gonna start shit by thinking about other things that I'm not even sure about yet.”

“Fair enough,” Jack admitted, and his voice managed to come out steady. He squeezed Ray's shoulder. “Like I said. Give Michael time. Take some time for yourself, too. No need to rush things.”

Ray nodded, but he still wouldn't look at Jack, and after a moment he sighed, giving up.

“Let's get back to the others.”

 

* * *

 

 

Ryan still seemed embarrassed about what had happened when they got back into the house. He stood with his back very straight, arms folded across his chest defensively, and would not look at either Jack or Gavin. When he spoke, his voice was tight and curt, artificially professional.

“So where the fuck is this gold, then?”

“You want to follow that up right now?” Gavin asked, sounding a little surprised. “We've been travelling all day – it can wait until we've slept.”

“Just tell us what you have so far,” Ryan ordered. “Then we'll decide what we do.”

Gavin nodded. He reached over to the computer desk and grabbed the file Kara had given them.

“So Heyman has already been tracking this gold. It's passed through a bunch of people since it was originally stolen, then it disappeared for a little while, but there were whispers about it popping up here. From what I can tell it's in the hands of a sort of... underground courier company. Specialise in hot deliveries, illegal goods, that kind of thing. They're pretty professional, got a solid reputation. Tend to get their deliveries done no matter what.”

“So they're going to take the gold to someone here,” Jack said, and Gavin nodded.

“Yep. So what we need to find out is who it's going to, and what route it's taking to get there. Which normally wouldn't be a problem for me, except these guys are _careful_ – the trail ends at their company. They don't keep their records and files digitally. It's all in hard copy. So if we want to know the route, we're gonna have to break in and find the physical copies of their records.”

“How do we know they've even written it down?” Ryan demanded.

“Because,” Gavin explained, “These guys are organised as hell and you don't get that way by only giving verbal instructions. Luckily for us, they have an office in Achievement City. Disguised as an accounting firm.”

“I've broken into a hundred and one places looking for hidden files before,” Ryan said with confidence. “Should be easy.” He glanced at the time on the computer screen and shrugged. “Better to go right now. It's night, so we'll have the cover of darkness – and better to strike now before they start moving that gold. We don't know how much time we have.”

“Fair enough,” Geoff said. “Gavin, what help can you be?”

“None whatsoever, unfortunately,” Gavin replied. “I can keep an eye on the street outside the office to make sure no one sneaks up on you while you're in there, but that's about it. Like I said. Everything's in hard copy.”

Geoff nodded. “I'll stay here with you, then.”

“We probably don't need four people,” Ryan spoke up. “Smaller is better on shit like this. Michael, I'll need you in case we need to bust into something.”

“You sure you're up for it?” Geoff asked dubiously, glancing at Michael, who was still bruised and limping.

“I'm fine,” Michael replied shortly. “I can go.”

“I'll come as well,” Jack said, sparing Ray and Michael from any awkwardness. “I'm a good driver. Can get us out fast if something goes wrong.”

Geoff clapped his hands together. “Great. That's decided, then. Stay in touch and keep us updated.”

They split apart to prepare, and Jack wandered to Geoff's side to see him watching as Ray drifted off towards the couch and Michael went to his bag to get his weapons, both of them studiously not looking at one another. He sighed.

Geoff's gaze flicked over to where Ryan was leaning over Gavin's shoulder as he pointed out something on the computer screen. They were standing close together but Jack could see that Ryan was careful not to touch him, obviously still feeling a little awkward over his earlier outburst. When he nodded and turned away, Gavin's eyes tracked his movements, something sad and a little guilty in it.

“The team's falling apart,” Geoff murmured, and Jack turned to him.

“No,” he said. “Not if we can help it. Ryan will be fine – he's just coming to terms with some shit.”

“If you say so,” Geoff replied, and gave a heavy sigh. Jack wrapped a hand around the back of his neck and pulled him into a quick kiss, swallowing any further despondency. Geoff was smiling when he pulled back.

Jack wandered over to Ray on the couch next, having caught the other sneaking glances at Michael, what little he could see of him through the angle of the bedroom door.

“I'll keep an eye on him out there,” he said, and Ray glanced up at him and gave a small smile.

“Thanks.”

“And Ray...” he glanced over at Gavin, who was now swinging idly on his computer chair, looking a little lonely on that side of the room by himself. “Don't ignore Gav. Don't push him away. I get that it might be... awkward, or hard for you, but honestly, I don't think Michael wants you to avoid him. And there's no way you can work things out for yourself – can be certain about what you want – if you're trying to keep away from him. You're not doing anyone any favours.”

Ray bit his lip and didn't answer, but when Jack turned to leave he could see the other watching Gavin thoughtfully.

 

* * *

 

 

There was a stilted silence in the car as they drove out to the address Gavin had given them. This late at night and in this part of the city there were few cars on the road, and there was something very eerie about the quiet, empty streets. Jack wondered if Shadles was watching them, even now. He hoped not.

The other two were being oddly quiet, and it didn't take Jack long to pick up on some sort of tension between them too.

 _Great_ , he thought, _are there any of us that_ aren't _fighting with each other somehow_?

He let his gaze drift to Michael, sitting on the other side of the backseat. It was unlike him to be so silent, but he appeared lost in thought, his eyes distant and not at all focused on the streets passing by through the window. The bruise on his cheekbone looked almost black in the dim light.

Taking it upon himself to break the awkwardness, he cleared his throat and saw the other two turn to look at him.

“I haven't done a proper break in job in a while,” he commented. “Most of our heists involve some sort of firefight. You two work on these much?”

“Not really much call for an explosives expert in stealth missions,” Michael replied.

Ryan shook his head as well. “I used to,” he said. “But for the last few years I've mostly been doing hits, assassinations, that sort of thing.”

“Which do you prefer?” Jack asked, curiously. He saw Ryan's eyes flicker across to him in the rear view mirror as the other man tensed slightly, possibly wondering if Jack was prying again, trying to get close again – before seeming to decide the question was harmless enough.

“I prefer theft jobs, honestly,” he said. “And stealth jobs. They're more challenging.”

“Because we all want our job to be harder than it has to be,” Michael piped up, something almost teasing in his tone, and Jack saw Ryan's momentary flicker of surprise at the other's friendliness before he replied.

“I've told you before, I prefer brains over brute force.”

“That you have,” Michael replied – and then the awkwardness returned as they seemed to recall the context of whenever that conversation had been; Jack felt a little left out, but before anything further could happen, they arrived.

The accounting firm was in a suburban shopping district. It was an unobtrusive little place, and obviously significantly smaller than any of the big firms in the city. Had he not known the true purpose of the company, Jack would have wondered how they managed to stay in business.

There were a few cars parked around, but otherwise the area was empty as they pulled up and parked. Jack watched as Ryan easily slipped into the shadows, scoping out the building – and he himself turned to help Michael out of the car.

“I'm fine,” the other grouched, but he was still moving stiffly and holding his side, and Jack ignored his protest as he helped him get upright.

“Those ribs were bruised pretty badly. They won't heal in just a few days,” he said, sternly. Michael looked up at him, seeming a little surprised by the intensity of his concern – and for a moment they stared at each other, their faces closer together than Jack had anticipated with how he was holding the other up. He took a quick step back.

Ryan returned then. “There's a back door.”

Said door was alarmed, but Michael fortunately knew how to deactivate it. It took a little time, but finally they were in, switching on their torches as they made their way into the building. It looked like a typical accounting firm; desks and offices, a small boardroom, and an obscene number of filing cabinets.

“I know what I'm doing,” Ryan informed them immediately, and Jack nodded. He didn't do this sort of work too often, but Ryan seemed schooled in hunting out secret documents in undercover businesses, and immediately set about checking the most likely hiding places. It helped that the gold was such an important piece of cargo, and the plans would likely be kept in a different place to everything else.

He and Michael ended up partly keeping watch and partly half-heartedly sifting through the filing cabinets just in case, but it wasn't long before Ryan retreated to another room, leaving the two of them alone.

Little thought went into Jack's decision to bring up the elephant in the room. He'd already spoken to Ray about it, after all, and he wanted to gauge where Michael sat now.

He'd barely opened his mouth, though, when Michael cut in, not looking up from where he was elbow deep in a drawer of manila folders.

“Before you say anything, I know you know what's going on. And no, I don't want to fucking talk about it.”

Jack sighed. “You've been thinking about it though, right?”

“Can't exactly _ignore_ it.” Michael rummaged through more files but Jack could tell he was distracted. It wasn't long before he sat back on his haunches and vigorously ran his hands through his hair instead. “Fuck.”

“Tell me what you're thinking,” Jack said gently. “Tell me what the problem is.”

“The problem is fucking Ray likes Gavin. I thought that was pretty damn obvious.”

“But how do _you_ feel about that? Ray's not going to leave you. He's told you he loves you.”

The word _love_ made Michael flinch, and Jack again felt that odd pang. That urge to do whatever he could to make sure none of them ended up more hurt than they already were.

“I don't... how the fuck would _you_ feel? If Geoff told you he was into someone else? But still liked you? Told you he wanted _both_ – that he wanted you to like some other fucking guy as well?”

“It would depend who the other guy is,” Jack replied, and Michael blinked a few times. He seemed taken aback by how calm Jack's answer had been, how instantaneous.

“Wait,” he said, sitting back and turning to look at Jack fully. “Seriously? You'd be okay with it?”

Jack nodded. “Geoff and I have talked about this before. If I liked him, and Geoff liked him, and he liked both of us... I don't see any reason it shouldn't work.” He huffed out a laugh. “It's not as uncommon or unnatural as you might think, Michael. There is a name for it. Polyamory.”

“Whoah, okay, don't get technical.”

Jack laughed. “It's not _technical_ , that's its name.” He smiled reassuringly and Michael looked away again, something like a flush rising to his cheeks.

“That's just, like, a sex thing though.”

“No, it's not,” Jack explained, patiently. “It's about relationships, just like any other.”

“So you and Geoff...”

“Like I said. We've discussed it. And we'd both be open to it, if we found someone.” He spoke calmly but even as he said it something wormed at his heart – before when Geoff had brought up Griffon he'd thought it something that would never happen, or if so then in the distant future. But when he'd brought it up again in the hotel room some nights previously, he couldn't deny that his thoughts had strayed to the men they were working with.

Ryan. Gavin. But not just them.

Michael and Ray too. And it had been a passing thought, something silly and stupid – _Ray is curious, ha ha, wouldn't it be odd if he ended up with us? What would that be like?_ \- only it had stuck, a little, the moment he imagined it, and it had struck him how easily he could imagine _any_ of the other four fitting seamlessly into the way he interacted with Geoff. That had made him nervous, and he'd quickly shoved it away, but it rose up again now as he spoke to Michael.

Michael bit his lip.

“I see,” was all he said – but Jack could tell that something had changed. That the calmness of Jack's own response – that how rational and unperturbed he'd been by the concept – had affected Michael somehow. Perhaps reassured him that this wasn't necessarily something to panic about. And he knew the other man looked up to him, even if he'd never admit it – being older and a big name tended to do that, not to mention the times he'd helped Michael with his problems before.

At that moment the door to the room they were in swung open and they both looked up. Ryan emerged, holding up a file.

“I found it,” he said, triumphantly. “Won't steal it though, otherwise they'll change their plans – I've photographed it all and sent it to Gavin. Put everything back how it was and we'll get out of here.”

Jack nodded. They'd hadn't moved too many things in that room so he left Michael to deal with it while he followed Ryan out to another office to close all the cabinets and rearrange everything as it had been.

As Ryan crossed the room to get to one of the drawers, his arm brushed against Jack's and he pulled away immediately, stiffening. Jack stared at him – part of him felt a little hurt, but it faded when he saw how tense Ryan's shoulders were. He obviously still felt awkward from earlier.

Jack still couldn't quite believe just how much the other man had opened up to him today – even if he seemed to be regretting it now – and again he found his mind drifting towards that stupid daydream of Ryan joining their relationship.

It was ludicrous, he knew.

Or was it?

Suddenly he wasn't sure – because there was no way, no _way_ that Ryan would have let him so close if he didn't feel _something_.

 _'Something' could just be very intense friendship_ , he kicked himself. _Besides, what about Geoff_?

Ah, Geoff. There was the question. Because while he'd been the one who was initially more open, the one to bring up the idea of adding other people in the first place – Jack wasn't quite sure how he felt about the others in their team. Oh, he cared about them, for sure, and he knew he was particularly fond of Gavin – that if anyone was going to be added, Gav was Geoff's obvious pick – but what about Ryan? Jack suddenly found he didn't know.

 _And how does Ryan feel about Geoff_?

Suddenly there were too many complications, too many unanswered questions – he realised this must be how Michael felt, lost, unsure.

 _Take your own damn advice_. All he could do was wait, observe, let things play out, he supposed.

“Jack.” Ryan was standing by the door now and Jack suddenly realised he'd been staring at the other man, lost in thought. In the dark he could barely even see Ryan's eyes, didn't know what he was thinking. He forced a smile anyway.

“Right. Let's go.”

 

* * *

 

 

Shadles was a tricky son of a bitch to find.

He had obviously been watching them while they were on the road. Had worked out that they were going to the fairground, hence how the Duck had been expecting them. But he was nowhere close to as skilled as Gavin was at monitoring and tracking down people – hacking was more his area of specialty – so he would have had to be somewhere close by, somewhere he could easily manually confirm his findings.

That meant he was still in or around Achievement City somewhere.

Gavin still had Clarence's list of all Edgar's hideouts, so he set about hunting through the areas around them – Shadles was too smart to leave a digital footprint so he had to rely on physical evidence, hoping to spy him on the streets.

He was still working on it when his phone buzzed in his pocket, making him jump. Pulling his headphones off, he realised some hours had passed and the flat was quiet around him. Looking around, he noticed Geoff out on the balcony keeping watch. There was no sign of Ray, so he was presumably in the bedroom.

It was a little strange having all the others in his house like this, but he didn't particularly mind. If anything it was nice – distracting from all the not-so-pleasant memories he had of his time here alone in those three months after Dan had left.

He checked his phone and smiled as he realised that Ryan had found exactly what he was looking for – the courier company's records of where they were taking the gold. He was poring over them when Geoff came back in, the draft of cool night air that entered when he opened the balcony door making Gavin shiver and pull his jacket closer about himself.

“Cold?” Geoff asked, coming up to him and resting a warm hand on his shoulder.

Gavin shook his head. “M'fine. Ryan just sent me some interesting stuff!”

“What is it?”

“The gold's gonna be moved next week. They're taking it right across the country – looks like they’re doing it by train.” He frowned a little. “Interesting choice. But all the trip details are here – we can easily intercept.”

“Sounds like a heist,” Geoff said, with a grin, and Gavin nodded.

“Yep! With any luck I'll nab Shadles before then and we'll be set.”

“Sounds like a plan.” He tilted his head. “Good work on Ryan's part getting those files so fast.”

“He's smart. He knows what he's doing.”

Geoff was watching him intently now. “You pissed at him? About before?”

Gavin looked away. “No,” he replied, honestly. “If anything, I think _he's_ pissed at _me_.”

“I don't think he is,” Geoff assured him, squeezing his shoulder a bit. “He likes you.” A pause, before he added – half-thoughtful, half almost concerned, “A _lot_.”

Gavin couldn't help the little smile he gave at that. “Yeah, it's... complicated.”

“Complicated? Why's it complicated? I know he goes all fucking Spock and doesn't like to show his emotions, but he's like that with all of us.”

“Yeah, but we-” Gavin broke off as he realised what he'd just been about to admit – but Geoff, perceptive as always, zeroed in on it.

“You what? Something happen with the two of you that I don't know about?”

“We kissed at the Corpirate's place,” Gavin said, but Geoff didn't buy it.

“I know. Jack told me about that little incident. That's not it, that was on the job.” He read it in the look on Gavin's face. “Wait – _shit_ , did you guys... it happened again, didn't it? You guys kissed again?”

Gavin felt his face flush. He looked away, embarrassed, but Geoff pulled at his shoulder, tugging him back around.

“Gavin,” he said – something very serious in his voice. “Did you two bang?”

“Jesus Christ, no!” Gavin replied. He pulled his arm from Geoff's grasp. “Nothing _happened_! And he didn't – he didn't bloody take advantage of me or whatever you're thinking, I was the one who-” Again he realised he'd slipped up and cut himself off, mentally cursing his lack of a brain to mouth filter.

“ _You_ were the one who kissed _him_?” Geoff demanded.

Gavin's face was burning hot by now. He couldn't meet Geoff's eyes and his heart was pounding and he didn't know _why_ , except that suddenly he was being forced to face up to things he'd been trying to push down. He didn't realise until he said it out loud exactly how it sounded.

“Gavin,” Geoff said slowly. “Do you _like_ Ryan?”

It seemed obvious. It seemed bloody obvious and he – and he didn't _know_.

“I,” he began, eloquently, and then stopped, unsure.

There was a moment of very strained silence.

Geoff let out a long stream of breath. “Okay,” he said. “It's fine, buddy, I'm not... I'm not judging, I'm not gonna tell anyone. But shit, that makes things complicated.”

Gavin's head snapped up. “What do you mean, complicated? Why should it make things complicated?”

Geoff was the one who looked embarrassed now, as though he realised he had messed up as well.

“Nothing!” he said, too quickly for Gavin to even bother _pretending_ to believe him – but then he seemed to decide that rather than explaining or attempting to lie further, he would simply _leave the room_ , and walked out of the flat, muttering about getting something from the car.

Gavin stared after him, aghast.

 _What does he mean, complicated? That stuff is between Ryan and I, it shouldn't... it shouldn't affect anyone else_.

But it wasn't hard to work it out, now that the seed had been planted in his mind.

The only reason relationships got 'complicated' was when other people were involved. Who had been acting strangely recently? Michael and Ray. Why did couples break apart? A long list of reasons, few of them applicable in this situation – except for when things got messy with other people.

Ray had been avoiding him. Michael had been avoiding him.

And all the signs, all the ways they'd been avoiding each other and avoiding _him_ – he'd done a lot of work, before he met Burnie, spying for people who thought their spouses were cheating on them. And Ray and Michael's mannerisms weren't identical to those he'd been hired to monitor, but they were similar enough that he got the gist of it.

 _Ray – Michael – one or both of them... one or both of them likes Ryan. Or one or both of them likes_ me.

For some reason the first thing that hit him then was an intense _fear_.

A panic that seized him suddenly like a vice around his chest. Because it was one thing for him to tentatively acknowledge that he might like Ryan – that there was _something_ building between them, something he couldn't deny – but Ryan was like him. Ryan didn't trust easily, Ryan wasn't going to push and try to start something with him – Ryan was _safe_ because Ryan was awkward and damaged enough not to take action, just like Gavin himself.

Ray and Michael were different.

And the thought of them scared him because suddenly it wasn't just Ryan his thoughts drifted towards. He liked Ray. He liked Ray a lot, they were very close. Ray made him feel safe – Michael did too – when he saw that Duck about to kill him his heart had _stopped_ in his chest and after that, when he crawled to his side and clungto him, then an intense surge of devotion had taken him over. He'd felt closer to the other man than ever – which was why it had hurt when just the next day he'd suddenly started pushing him away.

But it wasn't... it wasn't just Ray and Michael.

That same devotion extended to Jack too, and Geoff-

And suddenly, suddenly it was so overwhelming that he couldn't stand it.

 _You trust these people_ , Dan had said.

And he did – he trusted them with his life – he cared about them and he knew they cared about him, but... but this was on a whole other level, and suddenly he felt entirely out of his depth. Like he'd been cast into deep water and was struggling to keep afloat, too many possibilities, too many _feelings_ weighing him down.

 _I can't do this_.

His hands were shaking again, he was breathing too fast – _pull away, pull away, pull away_ . It was all he could think to do. Not think about it. Not encourage any of it. He'd gotten too close, too fast – he might trust them, but he didn't trust _himself_ – his feelings.

The sound of a door opening made him jump, and he spun around to see Ray emerging from the bedroom. There was something hesitant on his face, and Gavin immediately realised that he wanted to apologise for what had happened earlier. Wanted to reach out and make amends for snapping at him before – to try and get them back to how they had been – and _God, not now_ , not when Gavin was still reeling from too many revelations.

“Hey Gav,” Ray started – tentative, nervous. Couldn't quite look at him. Gavin felt sick.

“Hi, do you need something?” It came out curtly and Ray's face fell a little. Gavin bit his lip – he didn't want to hurt him, but it was too late now.

“Just wondering what you were up to,” Ray said then, gently. His hands were shoved in his pockets, something awkward about it – _endearingly awkward,_ Gavin's treacherous mind whispered. He nearly choked. “I thought,” Ray continued, “If you want – we can watch more Fawlty Towers later. If you can't sleep.”

The offer was fumbling and careful, like Ray too wasn't sure where they stood with each other, and Gavin-

Gavin felt like he was drowning, drowning, _drowning_.

“I- I can't,” he said. _Pull away_. _Too close_. “I've got a lot to do – got to find Shadles,” he assured Ray, not wanting him to think it was because he was angry with him.

Ray nodded, though he looked a little pained. It had obviously taken him a lot to work up the courage to even speak to Gavin, and when he turned away Gavin had half a mind to reach out after him, but he stopped himself.

_No. You bloody idiot, don't..._

He turned back to the computer screen slowly and tried to force himself to focus back on work, but his stomach was churning. He couldn't stop thinking about Ryan – Ray – Michael, Geoff, Jack. It was hard enough to give himself up to one person, let alone five. Besides, five – five couldn't work.

Too many possibilities. Too many pieces from different puzzles.

Taking a deep breath, he reverted to his favourite coping mechanism. _Don't think about it_. Don't start shit with Ryan, or Ray, or anyone else. _Focus on the job. Don't think about it._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bweeeh on tumblr has made an [awesome fanmix](http://8tracks.com/yumania/six-is-a-crowd) for the story! 
> 
> Also, gumbaro from tumblr drew [two](http://gumbaro.tumblr.com/post/100730234496/some-fanart-for-this-super-awesome-fic-normally) [pieces](http://gumbaro.tumblr.com/post/101229899271/wow-okay-so-guess-who-drew-another-scene-badly) of fanart, and ciTohCysP did this [charming doodle](https://docs.google.com/drawings/d/1y1tIi6uvq3Q3pIFfEW66w9-myYGYywAgD_vX6XeT_Yc/edit) :) Thank you so much to all of you guys! <3


	17. Chapter 17

Michael stared up at the ceiling and thought about Gavin.

He had been pushed into taking the bed, thanks to his still-healing injuries, and hadn't bothered putting up too much of a fight. Everyone was tense that evening, anyway – Gavin oddly withdrawn, avoiding looking at or talking to any of them – Ryan still out of sorts over whatever had happened earlier – Jack and Geoff deciding it best not to pester any of the others, and Ray as despondent as he'd been the last few days.

It couldn't last forever, Michael knew. He already felt bad for ignoring Gavin, knew the other man thought he was mad at him. He wasn't. He was just... working things out.

But here they were, finally getting some sleep after a stupidly hectic week of driving around. He could hear Ray's breathing, soft and even in sleep, where the other man was lying on the floor beside him in a sleeping bag. Three days ago they'd have been sharing the bed, but he didn't quite want to think about that.

The door to the bedroom was shut but the digital alarm clock on the dresser was casting a faint green light about the room, illuminating it just enough for Michael to count the waterspots and cracks on the ceiling above him. He wondered how many times Gavin had lain awake and stared at this same ceiling. It was a curious thought, trying to picture him living in this flat before he'd met any of them – Michael recalled thinking something similar the first time he'd been here.

 _Gavin_.

He had been on Michael's mind for the last few days, for obvious reasons. When Ray had dropped his little secret Michael had been... shocked, to say the least. Confused. And it had taken him weeks of denial and no small amount of angst to come to terms with his feelings for Ray, someone he'd known for years – so how the fuck was he meant to deal with _Gavin_ , who he'd only known for weeks? Not to mention the idea of starting something with all _three_ of them – it had scared him, things with Ray were still so new.

But Jack's calm reassurance had him slowing down, looking at things more rationally.

He closed his eyes and tried to fit things together in his mind.

Tried to imagine what it might be like, if Gavin were to... to join their relationship, or whatever the fuck Ray was thinking. And he would be lying if he said the fleeting thought of being with Gavin had never crossed his mind, but no more so than any other thought did – but he honed in on it now.

He liked Gavin, there was no doubt about that – he was funny, and clever in his own way, and Michael wanted to take care of him. Now he pictured what it might be like for their small, affectionate touches – an arm around the shoulders, a hand reaching out to ruffle his hair – to be undercut with the same deeper tenderness that he showed Ray.

He suddenly found it wasn't hard to imagine at all.

He had held Gavin's hand, back in the hall of mirrors – and they'd been terrified out of their wits but even that small, intimate touch had brought him comfort. And when he saw Gavin lunge forward to try and save him from the duck – he'd felt a surge of some sort of affection.

His imaginings switched from himself-and-Gavin to himself-and-Gavin-and- _Ray_. In his mind's eye he pictured Ray between them on the bed, the way he'd been in that motel room. Considered Gavin leaning in to kiss him – the way they would fit together – Michael wrapping his arms around Ray from behind, Gavin reaching out to squeeze Michael's hand-

He tore his mind away, mouth suddenly dry.

He could imagine it all too well. It _fit_ all too well, which meant – which meant what? _No more excuses?_

Out of curiosity now, more than anything – he had no idea why he did it – but suddenly he replaced Gavin in his mind with Jack.

Thought of Jack's hands, strong but gentle, ghosting over his chest, his shoulders as Ray's had – the scratch of Jack's beard as they kissed -

Jack and Ray, embracing-

Jack and _Gavin_ -

 _Jesus fucking Christ what are you playing at, Jones?_ He felt a sick sort of shame suddenly, like he'd stumbled on something forbidden and taboo – like he'd been caught doing something he oughtn't. And then realised, with a half-hysterical sort of amusement, that that was probably how Ray had felt, the first time he realised he liked Gavin.

 _But Jack? Really, Michael? He's already with Geoff you sick fuck_.

Except – except hadn't Jack said, before, that they'd talked about the possibility of adding others to their relationship? And it had all been very hypothetical but Michael could _tell_ he was serious – and there'd been something in the way Jack looked at him then, the way Jack held his gaze, that had started an odd nervous thrum in the pit of his stomach.

 _I could like Gavin_ , he realised – and telling it to himself, repeating it over and over in his mind, seemed to reassure him somehow. Made things a _definite_ instead of an _I-don't-fucking-know._

 _I could like Gavin, I could like Gavin._ He _did_ like Gavin. His stupid hair, his stupid smile, that ridiculous accent. The way he looked at Michael sometimes like he trusted him more than anyone else.

 _But_ , he realised – _I could like Jack?_

By now he was half-asleep, too dazed to mull over it – but there was something right and settling about the thought, and he held it in his mind as he faded into sleep.

 

* * *

 

 

“Michael... Michael.”

A tentative hand was pushing at his shoulder. Michael jerked awake to see Ray, hovering over him, something hesitant in his face. Everything came slamming back into him – and his first instinct was to smile.

“Good morning.”

Ray stared at him. Then smiled back, unsure, and Michael felt a pang of guilt because he looked _tired_ – wrung out like he hadn't been able to put his mind to rest for the last few days – and he knew it was his fault, for pulling away. Knew that Ray hadn't asked for this. But after the deliberations of last night he was ready to move on – to fix things with Ray, if no one else. They could work this out together.

“Good morning...?” Ray took a step back from the bed. He was already dressed, Michael realised dimly as he sat up. “How do you feel?”

“I'm okay.” His ribs still ached, especially when he leaned over off the bed to grab his bag – there was still a dull throb in his shoulder – but he was much better than he had been, and he'd operated in a worse condition.

“I'll leave you to it, then,” Ray said with a nod, heading for the door – but Michael called after him.

“Wait!”

There was a hesitant sort of hope in Ray's eyes as he turned, and when he saw Michael smiling at him it blossomed into something brighter.

“Ray... I've been thinking,” Michael said. “And I know we haven't been – fighting, not really, but. Whatever it is, I don't want to fucking do it anymore. Maybe you like Gavin, maybe I'm not sure if I do too, but we can figure it out together. It's not like we're about to jump him the minute we step out of this room or anything, right? There's time. And in the mean time I...” and his mouth felt dry again, heart thudding the way it had when Ray had said these words to him - “I love you, so. There's that. Don't want to lose that.”

“Michael...” Ray's face had slackened in shock but now he smiled again, shyly. “I... okay.”

“Okay? I tell you I love you and that's all you fucking have to say about it?” Michael teased, and Ray laughed – moving back towards the bed with a spring in his step.

“You're an asshole. I love you too, you know that.”

“Good,” Michael said. “It'd be a bit awkward otherwise.”

Ray scoffed at him and then started to lean forward, but hesitated. Still unsure, still a little afraid, and Michael reached out and tugged him the rest of the way, pressing their lips together.

The odd emptiness he'd felt the last few days faded instantly – he knew then he'd made the right call. The way Ray sighed softly into his mouth, the tension seeming to melt from his shoulders – the gentle brush of his fingers across Michael's jaw, hesitant to touch him still, as though he was pushing some boundary, breaking some rule – he had _missed_ it. Knew now, no matter what, he didn't want to lose _this_.

“Sorry for being a jerk,” Michael murmured finally, when they broke apart, and Ray laughed.

“You weren't – not really – not any more than I've been, anyway. I know it must be... hard.”

“Maybe, but we should know by now that I'm an oblivious asshole and you work things out more quickly than me. Give it a few more weeks and I might’ve been the one discovering my latent boner for Gavino.”

“You are terrible,” Ray said, and got off the bed. “Come out when you're ready. I think we're looking for Shadles today.”

“Joy of joys,” Michael said – though he frowned as Ray left the room. The mention of Shadles had cast a darker pall over his mood as he remembered the way the man had manipulated and tricked Gavin. The fear he'd felt when the other man went missing – his all-consuming _relief_ that he'd gotten out of it alright. The memory of those feelings only seemed to assure him that yes – there was _something_ there.

Another vague thought drifted to the front of his mind – _Ryan?_ – it felt like something he should work through, should consider _-_ but not right now.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Everyone was crammed around Gavin's small table eating breakfast when Michael entered. Geoff and Jack looked up with cheery grins, seemingly having discerned from Ray's now-sunny disposition that the two of them had made up – and Michael grinned back, though he felt a hot flush rising to his face the moment he saw Jack and forced it down, _stupid, stupid, that's what happens when you start fucking fantasising about other people in the middle of the night. Idiot._

The only spot left at the table was between Ray and Gavin, which was somewhat fitting and possibly deliberately orchestrated by Geoff. He sat down anyway and stared at Gavin for a moment, trying to figure out why something seemed different about him.

It hit him.

“Hey!” he said, doing a double take. “You shaved!”

“Yes, Michael,” Gavin replied, “It is a thing that men do.”

“Not Michael,” Ray piped up, “I don't think he's even capable of growing a beard. That face is smooth as a baby's ass.”

“Shut the fuck up, Ray,” Michael replied, distractedly. Gavin had been clean shaven at the start of their little venture but that had rapidly deteriorated over the next few weeks.

Now without facial hair he seemed younger somehow, more vulnerable. Michael started to reach out as though to touch his now smooth jaw, but to his surprise Gavin ducked his head away. Not quite flinching but something close to it, and he dropped his hand, feeling awkward suddenly, wondering what he’d done wrong.

“You okay?” he asked, and Gavin just nodded.

“Yeah,” he said, “I’m fine,” but he still wouldn’t look at Michael, who turned to Ray and shot him a curious glance. Ray just shrugged, looking troubled – but they couldn't talk now, not with everyone else around, so Michael turned his attention back towards the food.

Ryan sat at the head of the table, mask on, impassively watching them all eat cereal. There was something a little surreal about it.

“So what's the plan for today then?” Michael asked finally, when the awkward silence became too much.

Gavin perked up a bit next to him. “I found Shadles last night,” he said, “But we're gonna have to smoke him out.”

“Smoke him out? What does that mean?” Michael asked.

“One of Edgar's hideouts here in AC is an industrial complex out near the factories,” Gavin explained. “He's got a bunch of guys there, looks like he's running some sort of drug operation in the buildings.”

“Got a hand in every fucking pie, doesn't he,” Geoff murmured, looking a little disgruntled.

Gavin nodded. “Anyway, Shadles is working from there but he's locked up tight. Infiltrating it will be hard, especially because there's cams there, so I'm thinking what we need to do is get him out in the open.”

“Any idea how?” Jack asked, and Gavin nodded.

“Yep! I came up with a plan actually.”

Michael leaned back in his chair. “This should be good,” he said. “Go on then, let's hear it.”

Gavin glanced at him as though unsure whether he was being mocked, but after a second he shrugged and continued. “Okay. Ryan's the bloody stealth master, right? So he goes in first, on his own, a little bit ahead of you guys. Takes out the cameras and guards in your path to clear a way for the rest of you to get to the main building that Shadles is in. Then you blow it up or set it on fire or something, and Shadles will be forced to evacuate. That's when you lot split up to cover every escape route and take him down when he tries to leave.”

“Fire, fire, set it on fucking fire,” Ryan muttered, “It's a God damn obsession with you guys. Got a problem? Let's burn it to the fucking ground!”

“But Ryan, it works so well,” Ray pointed out. He shrugged, shooting Gavin a double thumbs up. “Seems solid to me.”

“Where are you in all this, Gav?” Geoff asked.

“I'll stay back here and monitor you guys,” Gavin replied. “Even if Ryan's taking down the cameras as he goes, I can try and keep you all coordinated.”

“Sounds good to me,” Geoff said, and looked around at them all. “Everyone in agreement?”

They all nodded.

“Great,” Geoff said. He rose from the table. “Finish eating and we'll start prep. Today good, Gavin?”

Gavin nodded. “Better sooner than later.”

Michael turned back to his food as Geoff and Jack left the table, Ryan drifting off a few moments later.

“Excited to blow shit up?” Ray asked, and Michael turned to him with a grin.

“Excited to kill the bastard,” he replied. “Even more excited to be one step closer to getting this over and done with. Hey Gav, what's the first thing you're gonna do once we take Edgar down?”

“Go back to England,” Gavin replied instantly, and Michael's stomach dropped. He exchanged a glance with Ray, who looked similarly shellshocked.

It made sense. He could see exactly fucking why that would be Gavin's plan, but suddenly – suddenly the thought of him moving overseas, of their never seeing him again... it made him feel sick, sick and cold and numb in a way he'd never experienced before, and that was the moment when it suddenly struck him that he _needed_ Gavin. Needed him in his life, in some way, shape or form – there was no doubt about it.

“You... you're moving back?” He kept the tremor out of his voice. Gavin wasn't looking at them, toying with the spoon in his half-eaten cereal. “Permanently?”

“I don't know,” Gavin said. “I mean, I've still got people there. Family, even. I just need to get away from here for a bit. And there's...” he trailed off, hesitant, then pushed on. “There's nothing really keeping me here, apart from work. And I... I really, _really_ need a break from work.”

Michael felt the way Ray stiffened beside him. His own heart sank a little more.

“What the fuck do you mean, there's nothing keeping you here?” he demanded. “Am I nothing? Is Ray nothing? _We're_ fucking here, asshole.”

Gavin blinked at them. “I... I didn't mean-”

“What the fuck _did_ you mean? Sounded pretty damn clear to me. You're just going to fuck off and never speak to us again after this is over?” It came out hurt more than angry, and he saw the moment Gavin noticed, his gaze softening.

“I didn't say that,” he said, quietly. “I wouldn't _want_ that, at all. You're my friends. I don't... I don't want to never see you again, but...”

“You know Geoff's offered us a job,” Ray spoke up. “We're gonna join him and Jack after all this. I'm pretty sure he's intending to offer you one as well.”

“That's top,” Gavin said.

“You don't sound very enthusiastic,” Michael spoke up, frowning. “You sick of us by now?”

“ _No_ , Michael,” Gavin snapped, a little annoyed by this point. “I'm well pleased, actually, an offer like that from Geoff Ramsey is nothing small. But I need a _rest_ , I don't want to think about jobs on top of jobs after this.”

“Okay, chill out, I didn't mean it that way.” And he had a sneaking suspicion that this was about something else, because Gavin was sitting at the edge of his chair as far from Michael as possible. Wouldn't quite look at him or Ray. And something about the stilted, careful nature of his answers was odd, like he was trying to avoid making any statements or promises about the future. Like he wasn't quite sure what _he_ even wanted, and didn't want to mislead them.

“Hey,” Ray said, reaching across Michael's lap to touch Gavin's arm. “We're just saying. We like you, we don't want you to fuck off to England and leave us behind.”

Normally this would have made Gavin smile, Michael knew – he'd seen the way the other soaked up Ray's affection like a sponge. But now, he pulled his arm away like the contact burned him, and gave a smile that was painfully forced.

“Thanks X-Ray,” he said, unconvincingly. “I've got some work to do now.” His gaze darted between the two of them and he added, “I'm glad you guys made up."

“Hey, finish your cereal, asshole,” Michael called out as he started to stand up.

Gavin picked up his bowl and pulled a face. “Nah, it's all mingin' and soggy now. I had enough already.” He deposited the bowl in the sink and walked over back to the computer, leaving the two of them staring after him.

Ray shifted closer to Michael, leaning in to whisper so they couldn't be overheard. “I think he knows.”

“Knows what?”

“About us. About why we were fighting.” His gaze flicked across to Gavin, who was sitting at his computer with his spine unnaturally straight and stiff. “He knows it was something to do with him... he must have worked it out.”

“Shit,” Michael said – it would explain things. And he felt oddly nervous now – wondering what Gavin thought of them. If he knew that Michael... that Michael liked him, as well as Ray. “Is he... Jesus Christ, that's awkward, but it explains why he's acting weird around us.”

“He's pulling away,” Ray said, “And I... I guess it's because he doesn’t want to tell me he doesn't feel the same way, to let me down-”

“There's a hundred and one reasons he might be pulling away,” Michael pointed out, not quite wanting to believe it. “He's got other shit on his plate right now.”

Ray nodded, reluctantly. “Yeah, I guess. That's what Ryan said.”

The mention of Ryan made Michael stiffen. They still hadn't had the chance to hash things out, to make up. Their little confrontation at the petrol station had left Michael feeling stranded, unsure of himself. He had been surprised by the force of his own emotions. By just how much he'd _wanted_ Ryan to care about them.

And he'd doubted, for a while – been afraid that Ryan _didn't_. But by this point – by this point, after the fairground, after seeing Ryan interact with Gavin over the last few days... he had changed. There was no doubt about that.

But there was still an odd tension between them that he wasn't quite sure how to dispel. And great, now Ryan knew about all their little domestic mess. That just made things so much better, didn't it.

“Don't push him,” Michael said then, looking at Gavin again. “Like I said. We don't have to talk about it yet. It's a fucking bad idea to bring anything up with him if we aren't sure ourselves yet. Give him space if he needs it. Let's take down Shadles first.”

Ray nodded. “Yeah – you're right.”

 

* * *

 

 

As it turned out, Edgar only owned a single factory lot within a larger industrial complex; a maze of smoke-spewing manufactories, tankers, half-finished construction sites and storage units. It was a shady part of town in any case, and there were few people around. As they approached his lot they stopped some distance away to travel on foot.

“There are guards patrolling around the area,” Gavin said through the earpiece. “Ryan, you go on ahead. I'll let the others know once you've cleared things enough for them to follow through.”

Ryan nodded. The closer they got to the area the more a grim sort of business demeanour had overtaken him, and Michael found it a little unsettling. Even on the jobs they'd done before, taking out the rest of Edgar's men, he'd been more at ease than this. It seemed the closer they got to Edgar, the higher the stakes rose.

Ryan took a few paces, then stopped. He turned back and, to Michael's surprise, headed directly for him.

“Be careful,” Ryan said firmly, staring down at him. Michael stared back, a little confused. He couldn't tell what Ryan was thinking, only that behind the mask his eyes were very intense.

“Of course I'll be fucking careful,” Michael said – and Ryan gave a jerking nod before turning and loping away.

“The fuck was that about,” Michael muttered.

Next to him, Ray reached out and pressed his arm. “He's worried about you. You're still injured.”

Michael frowned. True, his face was more bruised than not now and his ribs still hurt a little when he walked, but he hadn't thought it too big a cause for concern. Geoff and Jack were staring at him now too, and he shifted self-consciously, looking away.

Perhaps, he realised, that was Ryan trying to make up for things. To prove that he did care, in his own emotionally constipated way.

A rather stilted silence fell as they waited. In the distance Michael could hear the rattle of a drill, the hum of machinery. He didn't like this place; the grey sky overhead. The buildings stark and plain and the smell of smog and smoke hanging in the air around them.

“Good to see you two made up,” Geoff said finally, breaking the silence.

“Yeah, whatever,” Michael replied – but caught Jack shooting him a small smile. Again he flushed, turning away, feeling that odd shame for letting his thoughts wander the night before.

“What's that guilty look for?” Geoff demanded, picking up on it – and Michael cursed inwardly.

“Nothing,” he snapped, “But I wish you wouldn't get all fucking up in our business all the time.”

“You don't mean that,” Geoff said, cheerily. “You love it, really. Being able to come running to us for help.”

“What Geoff is trying to say,” Jack interjected, rolling his eyes, “Is that he's happy to help you whenever possible and he's pleased you guys are on good terms so we can employ the both of you once all this is done.”

“I'm actually very excited about that,” Geoff said – and grinned widely enough that despite himself, Michael couldn't help but smile back.

“Me too,” Ray admitted, and Michael nodded as well.

“I've got, like, half a dozen heists that could be vastly improved by things exploding,” Geoff continued, and even Michael couldn't help the slight flutter of excitement that shot through him. Because their job could be fun, despite the danger – not killing people, he wasn't that far gone. But the adrenaline. The fear of getting caught. The thrill of breaking rules. Stealing things, breaking into places – that was exciting.

“Ryan's taken out the guards and cams in the first part of the compound,” Gavin spoke up. “You can head on through.”

They nodded, snapping to attention, guns at the ready as they made their way towards the building Shadles was holed up in. They passed the bodies of two downed security guards, but Ryan had been thorough and there was no one else there. They paused to wait again.

“Geoff, what's the first thing you're gonna do after you take a holiday after this?” Michael asked.

Ray shot him a curious glance, and he shrugged. He knew it was a bit strange that he'd suddenly started asking that to everyone they were working with, but he couldn't help it. The closer they got to Edgar, the more he'd begun to think about _after_. And for some reason _after_ no longer seemed like just himself and Ray, moving things along between them – he couldn't help the nagging feeling that somehow, all the others would be involved too. He didn't know why.

“Drive that Swiss cheese Felix out of my fucking territory once and for all,” Geoff declared.

Jack snorted. “I think he's Swedish.”

“Swedish, Swiss, they're all the fucking same,” Geoff said dismissively, flapping a hand. “All those Scandinavian places up there.”

“Racist,” Ray muttered, and Geoff laughed. Michael laughed too. Caught Geoff's eye. And he'd noticed, throughout the last few weeks, even months, that it wasn't just Jack he got along well with, but Geoff too – while hanging out at the house after the Corpirate's mansion, waiting for Gavin to get a lead, they'd spent some time talking. Not even about job-related shit, stuff like shows and games and their childhood, and had come to the conclusion that they both had very similar life values. They took no shit and gave no shits. It wasn't just Jack, Michael realised now, with a dawning... something, not quite horror but nothing near joy. It wasn't just Jack he could easily fit into the vision of he and Ray's relationship in his mind's eye. It was Geoff, too.

“You can move on to the next bit now, Ryan's going fine,” Gavin said again – he'd been oddly quiet, making no attempt to contribute to their conversation though Michael knew he was listening in. He was concerned, but brushed it away, thinking it best to focus on the job.

Conversation dwindled from there as they made their way further into the factory area, but Michael couldn't help but notice a slight shift between the four of them. Now that he was paying attention to it, he saw the way Geoff's eyes didn't just dart periodically to Jack, making sure he was okay – but to Michael and Ray too. The way Jack rested a light hand on Ray's shoulder as he paused, ducking back behind a wall when Gavin warned them of a stray guard who'd wandered in from another area. How Ray gave Jack an approving nod, a small smile when he took out the guard in a single neat shot.

And too much of this had been on his mind lately – relationships and sex and even _love_ – the future. Shit he'd never even been concerned about before Ray admitted to liking Gavin, but since then they'd lurked, a constant presence, a constant _what-if_ he just couldn't stop thinking about. Mostly to do with Gavin, since Ray had brought it up.

But now – now that Gavin was so quiet as to barely be there when he guided them through the rest of the facility – now as they finally reached the main building and snuck in through a back door and Michael got to work, buckling down to plant the bomb he'd selected (lots of fire and smoke but little in the way of actual destruction; enough to cause an evacuation without putting the rest of them in danger) –

Now as he noticed how Geoff watched him work with something like awe and Jack with something like affection – both of them darting their gaze away when they realised he'd noticed them staring-

Now it wasn't Gavin who occupied the what-ifs in his mind . It was Geoff, and Jack, and Jack's words from earlier – _we'd both be open to it, if we found someone._

He swallowed, closing his eyes briefly, because in his daydream now it was the four of them – the frontmen of Ramsey's crew. No longer two deadly mob bosses in a relationship but four. And he'd looked at Geoff and Jack sometimes, in the past – felt almost an envy at how close they seemed, how seamlessly they worked together – he had much the same thing with Ray now, he realised – but fitting it together in his mind, he imagined it four-fold, their two relationships combining into something bigger. _Better._

“Michael,” Ray said, and he jerked back to attention. Realised the bomb was ready and he was standing, staring at it, demolition remote in hand.

He straightened up.

“Shit's set. Let's get out of here.”

 _Later,_ he thought – he'd think about it later. _Later, but soon._

 

* * *

 

“Up ahead, on the left,” Gavin said.

Ryan rounded a corner between two industrial tanks and nodded as he caught sight of the last camera in the area. On impulse, he raised a hand and waved jauntily at it, knowing Gavin was watching from the other side – and heard the man give a startled laugh in his ear before Ryan raised his gun and shot out the lens.

“That's the last of them,” Gavin said, still sounding amused – and Ryan couldn't help the soft, secret smile he gave behind his mask.

He felt guilty as fuck about his outburst the day before. Not just guilty – _embarrassed_ , a crawling sort of humiliation spreading through his stomach whenever he thought back to... to just how _completely_ he had broken down.

He'd been stressed for a few days now – and Ryan wasn't one to get nervous. Whenever he thought about Edgar and killing him, it was anger that consumed him. Not fear.

But when they went to visit Heyman – when he realised just how close they were – he'd started feeling jittery. And Ray – Ray hadn't helped by revealing his little Gavin problem.

 _Ray and Gavin and Michael. The three of them. Together_ . Ryan would be lying if he said he hadn't noticed _something_ between them, but getting explicit confirmation that Ray, at least, had had his feelings solidify into something definite...

There had been a similar thing in his old team, a group of three. He didn't like to think about it. Didn't like to remember how when just _one_ of them was taken by Edgar, the other two had broken down – had gotten themselves killed trying to get her back. Had brought the rest of them crumbling down too.

It had put him on edge, and when Gavin started prying, he'd lashed out. He felt bad for it now, and he wasn't fool enough to deny that the reason why was because he cared too much about Gavin. And perhaps learning that Ray felt the same way should have made him feel... wary, or jealous, or something like that – but he didn't, strangely, and he quickly realised it was because it was _Ray_. He cared about Ray too.

None of that mattered now, of course. He couldn't – _wouldn't –_ act on it, because they had shit to get done and like hell he was going to let his emotions overcome him again. Once had been bad enough.

“Where are the others at?” he asked, looking around. Everything was clear in this area; he'd eliminated most of the outer guards and by taking down the security cameras, any mercenaries inside wouldn't know where to find them.

“Still planting the bomb. They're nearly done, I think. You should head around to the back in case Shadles comes out that way.”

“Okay.”

Now that the cams were down Gavin couldn't guide him any more. He was left to move on his own, keeping an eye out for any threats.

And he should have been used to it – had been working on his own for nearly the last seven years, bar those few times – but suddenly something felt off about this. Something had felt off this whole mission, because he'd been alone, isolated from the others. Listening to them chat in his earpiece while he focused on his own work.

He didn't like it.

It struck him with a horrible sort of realisation, making him literally stop dead in his tracks.

He didn't like it. He _preferred_ it when he was with the others. When they could bounce banter off one another, lightening the mood even on such a heavy job. He had, somewhere along the line, gotten _used_ to having someone to trust. Someone watching his back. Even now he wasn't really alone, because they were there, in the earpiece – and suddenly the thought of returning to working on his own, to those lonely jobs and solo hits, seemed terrible and alienating.

Geoff had offered him a job and suddenly, the thought of doing anything but taking it seemed ludicrous.

 _Not the time_. He shrugged it off, heading around to the back of the main factory building, then ducked back against a wall as he saw two new guards emerging from the building. He waited for them to pass and then took them both out with practiced ease; neat shots that speared them through the back of the neck as they crumpled to the ground silently.

“Michael,” Ray's voice broke through in his earpiece, and he snapped back to attention.

A rustling sound, then Michael's voice. “Shit's set. Let's get out of here.”

“Ryan?” Gavin asked. “Are you in position?”

“I'm around the back.”

“There are five exits. You all spread out, you can surround the building,” Gavin said. “I've got no eyes in the area, all the cams are gone – but that means Shadles won't know where to go either. Don't let him slip by you. Move fast, they'll have realised by now something's going on.”

“Okay, we're out,” Geoff said, footsteps petering out. “Jack, around that side – Ray, get up to that walkway, you can keep an eye on the east side of the lot. Michael, you take that area, I'll stay here. We in position?”

It took a little while but before long there was affirmative agreement. Ryan adjusted his grip on the gun, still waiting with his eyes on the back exit of the building.

“Michael, blow it when you're ready,” Geoff ordered.

“No one's too close to the building?” Michael asked. “Okay. Five, four, three, two, one.”

Honestly, Ryan was expecting a bigger explosion than what rocked the area next. It was still enough to make the ground tremble, to have him pressing himself back against the wall, his ears ringing despite his clapping his hands over them – but the building itself remained intact, or at least, this side of it did.

What he did not expect was the massive pillar of flame that he saw shooting up from the other side of the complex. Instantly deafening fire alarms began ringing out throughout the entire area, a thick plume of smoke spewing from the top of the building. Whatever Michael had put in that bomb, it was making the fire spread amazingly quickly, and it wasn't long before people were streaming from the building – some randoms, some guards, some people in hazmat suits. Ryan didn't know what sort of operation Edgar had been running in there. He remained hidden, not wanting to start a confrontation that might cause him to miss Shadles, instead keeping his eyes peeled for the man. Gavin had shown them a picture of him and he'd committed it to memory; if he appeared he'd be able to pick him.

His ears were still ringing, making it a little hard to hear the others in his ear, though they weren't talking all that much anyway.

The flash of a familiar face caught his attention.

 _Shadles_.

He was with a cluster of other people – a couple of brutish looking figures, likely mercenaries, and two men in factory jumpsuits.

“I've got him,” Ryan snapped into the earpiece, and stepped forward, firing.

He missed.

Something flammable inside the factory exploded with a deafening boom that knocked most everyone in the vicinity to the ground, including Ryan. He recovered quickly, scrambling to his feet – but his quick reaction time drew attention to him, as nearly everyone else was still sprawled on the floor, and Shadles caught sight of him. A look of dawning horror crossed the man's feet, then he got to his feet and began to run.

Ryan raced after him, but the other man was fast, and knew the factory area well – he darted between pipes and buildings, several paces ahead of Ryan.

“I'm after him!” he shouted again, before tuning out the others, needing to focus on his own work.

Shadles nipped between two large water tanks, and Ryan – somewhat stockier – was a little hard pressed to squeeze after him. When he finally emerged into a small construction area between two lots, he realised he'd lost sight of Shadles, and whipped his head around, looking for him.

“Heads up!” someone shouted – his head snapped around and he saw Shadles standing in a small gap between the scaffolding on one of the buildings. Barely had he registered this than Shadles raised a gun and fired – Ryan ducked, but he quickly realised Shadles hadn't been aiming for him; the bullet struck a pipe a little to the left of his head and a compressed jettison of steam gushed out, blinding Ryan for a moment and sending him stumbling.

He expected Shadles to run.

He did not expect Shadles to start firing at him – and dived sideways, behind a pile of metal girders and other construction materials.

“Get back here, Haywood!” Shadles shouted – he sounded afraid, but apparently he was smarter than Ryan had anticipated. If he ran now, Ryan would hunt him down and kill him for sure. But if he fought back while Ryan was dazed and at a disadvantage – he had a chance.

Fortunately for Ryan, Shadles was not a very good shot, and he emptied nearly the entire clip and missed every single time. Unfortunately for Ryan, he was _creative_ , and realising he was getting nowhere, his gaze darted to two explosive tanks a little distance away.

Ryan tracked his movements and he cursed as he realised what was about to happen. He was right under the scaffolding, fuck, _fuck_ -

Frantically he tried to clamber to his feet and run, but Shadles had already fired. Time seemed to slow as he made a final desperate lunge to get out of the way, but it was too late.

The tanks exploded.

The scaffolding collapsed.

The next thing Ryan knew he was flat on the ground and he couldn't breathe, couldn't _breathe **,**_ felt like every last particle of air had been completely pressed from his lungs. He didn't even hear the explosion; his ears were starting and popping and ringing like the fire alarms had been ten minutes ago, and all he could see was dust. There was a crushing weight on top of him, forcing him into the ground.

He blinked a few times, dazed.

Part of the scaffolding had collapsed on top of him; metal beams and partitions covering his legs and lower back. For a moment he feared to move, in case he'd damaged his spine, but he could still feel his feet – his legs fucking _hurt_ , and he risked it, squirming, trying to get free.

He couldn't. He was well and truly trapped, one arm pinned underneath him.

He still couldn't hear, but footsteps entered the corner of his vision and he twisted his neck around to see Shadles striding towards him. The man's face was streaked with dust and grime and there was something frantic in his eyes, something almost hysterical. He was shouting, but Ryan couldn't make out his words; they were faint and distorted as though underwater.

Shadles aimed the gun at him and Ryan couldn't help but flinch, but he saw the man pull the trigger uselessly a few times before tossing the weapon aside, realising it was empty. He reached down and picked up a broken shaft of iron from the ground, making his way towards Ryan with it raised menacingly.

Oh, fuck. He was going to be fucking beaten to death by this son of a bitch while he lay here helplessly.

Frantically he began to struggle again – trying to worm his way out from under the metal, or lift it, or just get his arm out from under him so he could go for his gun – to no avail.

Shadles' grimy sneakers stopped inches from him, and Ryan craned his neck to look up at him. Saw a deranged sneer split his face as he raised the metal bar above his head.

Then he stumbled, the bar falling from his grasp as a shot from behind hit his shoulder.

Ryan may have barely been able to hear, but if anything could cut through the ringing in his ears it was the sheer volume of Michael's shouting.

“ _I'm going to fucking kill you you fucking fuck!_ ”

Shadles turned, curling into his injured shoulder, just in time for Michael to half-tackle him, an arm hooking around his throat and forcing him down to his knees. Michael jammed the gun against his temple, fingers digging into the wound on his shoulder, making him scream loudly enough that Ryan could hear it.

“That's for Gavin you fuck,” Michael spat – and pulled the trigger. Shadles crumpled, falling to the ground inches from Ryan's face.

Michael's hand was on his shoulder then, turning him over slightly – at least now Ryan could see his face clearly, could piece together what he was saying from reading his lips as much as he was straining to hear his voice.

“Can I move you or are you hurt?” Michael was asking.

“I'm not hurt, just pinned,” Ryan replied – he was pretty sure he was shouting, because he could barely hear his own voice, but Michael just nodded and set about pulling the shrapnel and girders off him. He vanished from Ryan's view and Ryan felt an odd sort of pang – and kicked himself then, for somehow managing to feel so vulnerable that the mere _sight_ of Michael was comforting to him.

His heart was pounding. It had been a while since he legitimately feared for his life. That had been a close call – and only solidified his sudden reliance on the rest of the team.

The heavy, crushing pressure lifting from his back and it was with a gasp of relief that he was able to lift himself from the ground enough to get his arm out from under him. Moments later more of the shrapnel rolled off him and he yanked himself free. He rolled onto his back immediately, gasping for breath. It was hard to breathe through the mask; everything was muffled and stale and he was struck with the sudden urge to take it off. There were no cameras, after all, and Michael had already seen.

But he didn't – some innate caution warned him against it. He could hear Gavin chattering in his ear, could make out the rise and fall of his accent but not any words. It was starting to give him a headache, and he reached up to pull out his earpiece.

“Ryan?” Michael was hovering over him now. His face was pinched with concern. “You okay?”

“Fine,” he replied. “He caught me by surprise,” he added, suddenly feeling a little appalled by just how helpless he'd been – and he started to sit up then only for Michael to catch him by the shoulders.

It was only then that he noticed just how frantic the other looked. His hands were trembling slightly, something afraid in his eyes.

“Jesus Christ, Ryan, I thought you were _dead_ ,” Michael snapped. “That fucking building collapsed on top of you – and then Shadles – I thought you were badly injured or...” he trailed off, glancing away as though he'd revealed too much.

Ryan's heart was slamming for an entirely different reason now. Because he knew the others cared about him but seeing it in action – especially from Michael; Michael who got angry, not scared, Michael who he had thought was pissed off at him – something about it made an odd feeling start up in his stomach.

Before he even knew what he was doing, his hands were rising to close over Michael's, holding them still until they stopped shaking.

“I'm fine,” he repeated, firmly. And then, “Thank you. If you hadn't showed up just then...”

Michael stared at him, eyes wide, searching – and Ryan held his gaze. Finally he turned away, pulling his hands from under Ryan's and letting out a scoff.

“You would have deus-ex-machina'd your way out of there somehow, I'm sure,” he said. And held out a hand to pull Ryan to his feet.

He accepted, staggering a little as he got upright – his back _killed_ , and he'd be black and blue tomorrow, he knew. Nothing was broken, though his ankle hurt to put weight on it, but he was bruised as all hell, and Michael wasn't looking much better, still limping from the events of the fairground.

Michael's head whipped around as he heard something – _gunshots_ , Ryan surmised – and he followed the other's gaze.

Having heard the commotion, the guards from the building were making their way over. Ryan swore, hand going to his gun only to find it missing. He'd dropped it at some point during the blast.

Michael pushed him back behind some of the fallen rubble, pulling his own gun out – but seconds later Ryan saw the approaching guards start to fall. Someone was shooting at them from the other side of the courtyard. It wasn't long before they were all lying on the ground and he poked his head out to see Geoff hurrying towards them.

“Are you guys okay?” he shouted, skidding to a halt. He reached out and grasped Michael's shoulders, something frantic in the movement – ran his hands down the other man's arms as though to reassure himself he was still in one piece. There was something intimate in the gesture; it was the sort of thing Ryan would have expected him to do to Jack. His eyes narrowed as he watched.

“We're good, we're good,” Michael replied. He jerked his head towards Shadles' body on the ground. “Slotted Shadles, so let's get the fuck out of here before Edgar sends more men to see what's going on.”

Geoff nodded. He turned to Ryan, eyes raking up and down his body to check for any injuries. “You okay, Ry?”

Ryan nodded. He started to walk but found himself limping; he'd sprained an ankle when he fell, it seemed. It was painful but not crippling and he was fully prepared to deal with it himself – so he was surprised when Geoff came up next to him, one arm looping around his waist. He flinched a bit, out of shock more than anything else.

“I can walk,” he said – and Geoff winced a bit. Ryan realised he was still shouting, his hearing still a little dim from the blast.

“This is faster,” Geoff replied, steadfastly refusing to budge.

Once Ryan would have pushed him away, insisted on moving on his own. But he was right, it was faster – there was something touching in his concern – and instead he found himself acquiescing; lowering his arm around Geoff's shoulders and allowing himself to lean some of his weight on the other man as they made their way back to the others.

 

* * *

 

 

Ryan hadn't thought he was all that worn out – he'd been hurt worse on jobs and pushed through it – but for some reason, the several flights of stairs up to Gavin's flat wreaked havoc on him, and he was ready to collapse by the time they got up.

Gavin opened the door immediately, having been waiting for them, and Ryan swept past him to sink down on the couch, letting out a breath of relief as he took the weight off his leg.

“Are you okay?” Gavin asked. “Need ice?”

“Ice would be good,” Ryan replied.

Geoff and Jack had entered behind him, both of them moving to perch on the kitchen table and sort of... sit there, staring at him. Ryan felt abruptly self-conscious under their gaze, especially Jack's. He still couldn't quite bring himself to look at the other man.

His break-down the day before had rattled him more than he liked to admit. It wasn't so much the fact that he'd freaked out as that he'd let Jack comfort him so intimately. And perhaps even _that_ wasn't as humiliating as the fact that he'd – liked it. Had welcomed the touch, the comfort.

He didn't know how much Jack had told Geoff. Probably everything, knowing the two of them. He bit his lip, looking away.

Gavin bustled back to his side, holding a frozen bag of peas wrapped in a tea towel. “There you are.”

“Thank you,” Ryan replied, reaching to take it. Their fingers brushed as Gavin handed it over and he didn't miss the way Gavin jerked away slightly awkwardly, not quite looking at him as he turned back towards the computer.

“Michael and Ray get back to their flat alright?” Geoff asked, glancing over at him.

Gavin nodded. “Yeah – they just texted. They're fine.”

Now that they were back in Achievement City, the two of them had decided to go back to their apartment to pick up some of Michael's supplies that he hadn't brought with him when they left originally, not having realised that it would take this long or this many resources to bring down Edgar. They also needed more clothes, more ammo. Part of Ryan didn't like the thought of splitting up the group, of the two of them heading out on their own – but Edgar should be distracted enough by losing another of his key players that he wouldn't go after them. Besides, without Shadles to keep an eye on the streets for him, he shouldn't know where they were.

Pressing the ice pack against his ankle, Ryan leaned back against the couch and closed his eyes. He was exhausted and sore and for a moment he let himself have a brief moment to relax. It was only when he heard a footfall next to him and snapped his eyes open that he realised his slip up.

In times previous he wouldn't have even considered kicking back and resting around anyone else. Only in locked rooms with locked doors where he could take his mask off – away from everyone else, even the people he was working with. Yet here he was, smack bang in the middle of the living room without a care in the world.

Jack was standing by the couch, looking down at him, and Ryan sat up a bit.

“Let me take a look at those bruises,” Jack said, and reached out. “Just to be safe.”

“I can look at it myself,” Ryan said, batting his hand away.

A flicker of hurt crossed Jack's face, and Ryan kicked himself. He had been overcome by awkwardness – felt too exposed, too vulnerable, like he'd let too much of himself loose in recent days – but he hadn't meant to push Jack away, not really.

“Ryan.” Jack crouched next to him, leaning in close enough that they could talk without the others hearing. “I meant what I said the other day. It's fine, you have nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“I'm not.” Except he _was_. It wasn't easy, letting down the walls he'd built strong and high for so long. He didn't know what to do, so he found himself – with all the emotional proficiency of a sweet potato – ignoring Jack, turning his face away and picking at the frayed edges of the couch cushions rather than provide him with a proper answer.

He heard Jack sigh beside him before rising and heading off. He expected that to be the end of it, but moments later Geoff was dropping down next to him.

“Hey, asshole,” Geoff said, prodding at his shoulder – and Ryan turned to him with a slight glare. Geoff just stared easily back at him, eyebrows raised.

“We all know by now that you're not the Mr Tough Guy you pretend you are,” Geoff said, “So don't get all rattled about it. You're allowed to not be okay sometimes. And you nearly fucking died out there today, so, y'know. Let us help you where we can. If anything it makes _us_ feel better too. And we're not about to leave you alone, so. You're stuck with us now, might as well accept it.”

“That sounds like a threat,” Ryan said, but there was something amused in it, and Geoff laughed.

“Yeah, I'm threatening you with my everlasting friendship,” he replied, and scoffed, standing up. “I know you need to like, work shit out for yourself, so I'll tell Jack to give you some space. But don't pull away from us. That's not fair on anyone.”

“Duly noted,” Ryan muttered – and it was easier, somehow, to talk to Geoff. He just seemed so blissfully unconcerned by things that somehow it made Ryan feel like maybe all this wasn't quite as big a deal as he'd made it out to be; he'd never been able to fool himself into believing he really didn't have feelings, as hard as he'd tried to bury them.

Geoff wandered off, and Ryan sat on the couch a little while longer. He didn't think about anything in particular, just let his mind drift – skirting across thoughts of Jack, Geoff, Michael, Ray. Gavin. Rather than let himself worry or fret about the dangers of growing close to them, he somehow managed to focus on the pleasant side of things. Their concern for him. How it felt when he made Ray or Gav laugh and smile. Jack's warm, comforting embrace. _You can't lie to yourself. This is not a bad thing. It can be dangerous, yes. You might get hurt. But here, now – this is not bad_.

It was a little while before he rose and wandered to the bathroom to properly clean himself up. He stripped his shirt off, wincing as the motion tugged at his bruised ribs, and then, after checking to make sure the blinds were pulled over the frosted window, he took his mask off as well.

He was grimy; bruised and scraped, but otherwise okay. When he looked at his reflection in the mirror he frowned a little, reaching up to touch his face. Something seemed different about it, but he couldn’t place what; he looked as tired as ever but somehow... somehow there was something softer about his features. Like some of the tension he always carried had dissipated somewhat.

He turned on the faucet and began washing the blood and dirt from himself. He wasn't sure how long he'd been in there before there was a hesitant rap at the door.

“Occupied,” he called out, a bit put out at being interrupted.

“Ummm,” Gavin's voice called back. “I've brought you the first aid kit.”

Ryan glanced around the small bathroom – he'd assumed the kit would be kept in here, but apparently not. Turning, he opened the door and Gavin practically fell into the room; he'd been leaning on it. Ryan caught him automatically, then winced as Gavin's elbow dug into his side, managing to hit a bruise.

“Whoops, shit, sorry,” Gavin said, stumbling upright. He turned and did a double take as he found himself face to face with Ryan's bare chest – eyes dragging slowly up until they hit his face, then startling again as he realised he had the mask off. “Oh, you're... um.”

“The kit?” Ryan prompted, gently, but he couldn't help the amused smirk that tugged at his lips at how flustered Gavin seemed.

Gavin quickly handed it over, cheeks flushing. Ryan knew he was thinking of the last time they'd been this close with the mask off; the kiss was at the forefront of his mind as well – and everywhere they could have gone from there, but hadn't – and he turned back to the sink, setting the kit down.

“Do you want some painkillers?” Gavin asked after a second, and Ryan shook his head.

“No, I'm fine. Been hurt worse.” He turned back to Gavin to find him loitering, hands shoved in his pockets, shoulders practically up around his ears. And he'd been jittery and withdrawn since last night, Ryan had noticed. Even over the intercom he hadn't quite been his usual boisterous self.

“I'm glad he's dead,” Gavin said, abruptly.

“Shadles?” Ryan asked, and Gavin nodded.

“It seems terrible, to be happy. But I am.”

“It's not terrible,” Ryan assured him – though he couldn't help thinking that this was a conversation they could have another time, when Ryan wasn't half naked and Gavin could speak to him without his eyes continually drifting to his chest.

Gavin still looked troubled, and with a mind to break the tension, Ryan said without thinking, “Those are my nipples, Gavin, my eyes are up here.”

Gavin's face went so red that for a moment Ryan thought he might combust on the spot. “Bloody hell,” he spluttered, “I wasn't – I didn't-”

“Relax, I'm just teasing,” Ryan said – couldn't quite help the amused grin that spread over his face. Gavin scowled at him, still bright red, and half-turned to leave the bathroom before on impulse Ryan reached out and caught his sleeve. “Wait. I wanted to apologise.”

“For that terrible, unfunny comment you just made? I wasn't looking at-”

“Not that.” Ryan tugged his arm until Gavin turned back around. This time he kept his eyes on Ryan's face and without the mask he suddenly felt oddly exposed. He pushed on. “For yesterday. I didn't mean to blow up at you.”

“It's not your fault.” There was something a little too soft, a little too tender about the way he said it. “I know it was none of my business, that I shouldn't have pried... God knows I'd be well minged off if you lot started looking into _my_ past.”

“Still. I lashed out and I... I didn't mean to hurt you.”

“You didn't hurt me.” Gavin looked up at him then. Gave a strange sort of smile and half-reached out as though to touch Ryan. Then he seemed to remember something, and an odd look overcame him as he darted back, almost shyly. “I... yeah. It's fine, Rye-bread, don't worry about it.”

“Okay,” Ryan said, a little confused about why Gavin was suddenly folding in on himself, visibly struggling to pull away. “Are you alright?”

“I'm fine, I'm fine, just, you know.” A weak sort of grin. “Got a lot on my mind.”

It wasn't hard for Ryan to work out what _that_ meant. He'd seen Gavin's stiff awkwardness that morning at the breakfast table. Somehow he'd worked out how he fit into Ray and Michael's recent argument. He knew that Ray, at least, liked him – and it was scaring him as much as some of Ryan's recent revelations scared himself.

He couldn't fault Gavin for pulling away, not when he himself was doing the exact same thing – and smiled at him reassuringly, making no move to push.

“We're okay, then?” he asked, and Gavin nodded.

“Yeah, we're okay.” He turned and left the bathroom, shutting the door behind him – and Ryan turned back to the mirror just in time to catch the tail end of a stupidly fond smile on his face.

He sighed. He had resigned himself to acknowledging that there was something between he and Gavin, something that would probably, eventually come to a head, even if they were both avoiding it for the moment.

But now Gavin was tangled up with Ray and Michael – yet he couldn't resent them for it. Because suddenly – especially in light of what had happened today – it wasn't just Gavin he could see potential with. It was everyone else too – Gavin was just the easiest target, the only one still single, the only one too wary to make a move.

He couldn't ignore it forever, but right now he just wanted to rest – and turning the tap back on, cupped his hands to run cold water over his face.

 

* * *

 

 

“Home sweet home!” Ray sang out as they stepped into their flat for what felt like the first time in forever. “Oh, shit, did we leave the lights on?”

“No,” Michael replied, “That's the fucking sunlight, man, the sun's setting.”

“That's a relief.” Ray kicked his shoes off and flopped down on the couch immediately. “Well, the place isn't overrun with cockroaches like last time, so. That's a plus.”

Michael poked him in the side as he passed, drawing a yelp. “Get up you lazy fuck, help me get my shit so we can leave.”

“But we just got here!” Ray stretched out on the couch like a cat and Michael rolled his eyes.

It was true, though. Now that they'd set foot in the flat again he was settling back into the routine of _home_. He was reluctant to go back out. And having killed Shadles – now that much closer to getting Edgar – it felt like it was time for a break, even if he knew they had a tight deadline to get that gold. But they'd been running around, on their feet for so long, that being back home... he hadn't realised how much he missed it, just being in his own space. Part of him wanted to just go and lie down in his bed and sleep for a week straight.

But they couldn't. He was here to pick up stuff, that was all.

“I'm going to shower,” Ray hollered from the living room as Michael headed into his bedroom, pulling open the cupboard door and eyeing the boxes of ordnance he kept there.

“Why?” he called back.

“Because the water pressure at Gavin's place is shit? I won't be long.”

Michael rolled his eyes again, but set back to work. He dug out everything he needed, packed it neatly into duffles and then grabbed some new clothes from his drawer, relieved to have the chance to pick them up.

He took everything back out to the living room, and then paused.

Standing here, with the sound of the water running in the bathroom – it felt like old times. Suddenly he was recalling every moment shared with Ray in this flat – lazy late-night TV marathons. Poring over job offers and heist plans at the coffee table. Pizza and video games.

 _Everything is different now_.

Except it wasn't, not really – they might be together now but they were still best friends. They would return to this flat after all this was done, and yeah, they would probably bang on the couch but it would still be _them_ , together, in this apartment, hanging out and having fun and-

 _And how do the others fit in here?_ It popped stupidly into his head; and great, now he was imagining how Gavin might cram onto the small sofa between them, all knees and elbows and bony sharp bits. It would be uncomfortable but they'd make it work.

Or how Geoff might look in the mornings, hair sleep tousled and moustache not quite at peak perfection, bending sleepily over their coffee machine. Jack pottering about their kitchen in his nightshirt and boxers.

(And something still felt left out – _Ryan_ – but Michael wasn't sure, didn't know how to fit him into the mental picture – laid him aside for now.)

He bit his lip. Because suddenly – suddenly he _wanted_ that. For the briefest of moments he wanted terribly to see what it would be like to have the others there, in their house – comfortable in their relationship.

The water stopped in the shower, and he jumped at the silence.

 _Ray_ , he thought – and suddenly _missed_ him. Not him, but the two of them – together, on their own, the way they had been for those scarce few days before everything got complicated. It was stupid, he knew, to act like things had changed, because they hadn't. It was still just the two of them. But the thoughts, the possibilities, they could be tiring.

It wasn't long before he heard the creak of the towel rack, and then, moments later, Ray emerged – hair damp, glasses hanging from his hand, jeans slung low on his narrow hips without a belt, wearing his undershirt but no other top layers.

Before he quite knew what he was doing, Michael was striding across the room, grabbing him by the belt loops and tugging him forward to press their lips together. Ray gave a startled little _mmph_ , not having realised what he was doing without his glasses on – but he kissed back eagerly, hands moving to settle comfortably on Michael's hips.

“I love you,” Michael said again when they pulled apart – trying it out, experimenting with the way the words fit in his mouth – and Ray laughed against his lips.

“I love you too, you dolt.”

There was a beat of silence – and suddenly, Michael realised, they were alone. Properly alone for the first time since they'd gotten together.

Ray was watching him carefully, his thumb rubbing slow circles against the skin of Michael's hip under his shirt. Waiting for him to dictate what they were going to do.

“This is us,” Michael said, abruptly.

“What?”

“ _Us_ ,” Michael repeated. “You and me. We don't... we forget Gavin for the moment, okay, forget... forget all of it. It doesn't matter. Not right now. No matter what ends up happening there, there'll still be you and me. We can't forget about that. Not so soon.”

“You and me,” Ray repeated. He smiled a bit, and something like relief slumped into his shoulders – and it had been wearing him down too, Michael realised, the terrible burden of possibility. “Okay. I like that.”

He leaned forward to kiss Michael again and Michael let him take control for the moment, walking him backwards through the open door of his bedroom until the back of his knees hit the bed and he fell onto it, Ray catching himself before he could land on top of him. They pulled apart, Ray reaching to shuck off his wife beater, Michael pulling his own shirt off more carefully.

Ray's fingers traced the bruises on his skin. “Do they hurt?”

“Only when you press on them. _Fuck_ ,” he hissed, as Ray's fingers brushed over the stitches on his shoulder. That wound was healing up well, though he'd have to take the stitches out in a couple of days – it didn't hurt, but it was sensitive and the touch made him shiver. Ray smiled a bit. Let his hand trail up the side of Michael's neck – he squirmed a bit, ticklish – before coming to tangle in his hair, carding through the thick curls, pausing to work gently through the knots when his fingers got stuck.

“You really need a haircut,” he commented.

“Is this making out or Extreme Makeover?” Michael complained, and reached up to grab Ray's shoulders, yanking him down into another kiss, the press of lips rough this time, almost bruising – a frantic buildup of things they'd both been waiting too long for.

He sat up a little, pushing himself up on his elbow, Ray bracing himself on the bed above him. They broke apart, breathing heavily – Ray's pupils were blown, his eyes nearly black, and a nervous, excited sort of shudder pulsed through Michael, low and warm in his abdomen.

“How do you want to do this?” he asked, licking his lips nervously.

Ray's eyes tracked the movement of his tongue. For a moment his breath hitched – then he seemed to force himself to calm down. He cupped Michael's face with his hand, tenderly – stroked his thumb across his cheek until he calmed a little as well.

“Slowly,” he said then. “I want to do it slowly.”

Michael swallowed. The nerves faded a little, because sure – this was new – but it was just Ray. Ray, who he'd known for so long – his best friend – the man he loved. They didn't need to be scared.

“Okay,” he replied, and smiled. “Slowly.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Polyamory,” he said afterwards, breaking the silence.

It was a comfortable, sleepy sort of silence – not awkward, which thank _God_ , Michael didn't think he could bear it if it had been awkward. It had been pleasant, and comfortable, and okay, now he'd _made_ it awkward, because Ray shifted from where he'd been lying, head against Michael's chest, fingers tracing absent patterns across the skin of his stomach – and looked up at him in confusion.

“Polyamory?” he replied, slowly.

“That's what Jack said,” Michael said. It came out a little fast, a little nervous. “Relationships between more than one person. It's not just about sex, though, it's all like. Deep feelings and shit.”

“Deep feelings and shit,” Ray repeated, and let out a long, slow breath. “Okay. Okay.”

“I've been thinking about Gavin,” Michael admitted. “I imagine you have too.”

“Yeah,” Ray said – quietly, still sounding almost ashamed. Hesitant like he still thought Michael would be angry with him. Michael rolled over to face him properly. Bent forward and gently kissed the top of his head, his cheek. Aimed for his forehead, missed, and nearly poked him in the eye with his nose.

“Ey, careful.” Ray chuckled a bit. “Okay, yeah, I have.”

“I... I wouldn't mind,” Michael said. “I'm almost sure.”

“Key word being 'almost'?” Ray questioned, eyebrows rising.

Michael shook his head. “No, it's not that, I... I just don't want to scare him or start something with him if we're not certain it's going to work.”

“How can we ever be _certain_ , though?” Ray pointed out.

Michael let out a huff of breath. And he felt nervous, now, nervous the way Ray must have when he was working up the courage to tell Michael that first time. “What do you think about Jack and Geoff?” he asked.

Ray went very still beside him. “Jack and Geoff?”

Michael nodded. “I... they... Jack told me they've talked about it. About... adding people to their relationship and shit. They're, like, totally fine with it.”

“What does that have to do with us?” Ray asked.

Michael stayed silent. Waited for him to get it.

“Oh,” Ray said finally. “I... _oh_.”

“I'm not... if you don't want to... just think about it, yeah? I mean, no rush.”

For a moment he didn't dare look at Ray's face. Because sure, Michael might have noticed him growing steadily closer to the two older men over the last few weeks, but for all he knew Ray saw them as nothing more than platonic older brother figures, or something of the sort – maybe he'd misjudged, misread, miscalculated-

But when he finally peeked across at Ray, he didn't look horrified or appalled. Just thoughtful.

“I'll think about it,” he said then – a curious mirror of what Michael had said, that morning in the lightkeeper's cottage, but less unsure now, and more speculative – filled with less danger and more promise, and Michael felt his shoulders slump in relief.

“I'll think about it too,” he said, “I just... it's not something I could ignore.”

“Same here, I think,” Ray admitted, and they smiled at one another for a moment before Michael's gaze fell on the digital clock by the bed and he sat bolt upright, alarmed.

“Shit, okay – get dressed, we've got to get back, they'll be wondering where we are by now.”

 

* * *

  

It was night by the time they arrived back at the flat. Ray headed up first, Michael bringing his things up more slowly from the car. He was surprised when Ryan met him at the stairs halfway.

“Need help with that?” Ryan asked, nodding towards one of the heavy duffles.

Michael shrugged, passing it to him. “Sure. Thanks. Ha, I like how they left all the heavy lifting to the two of us who are injured.”

“Honestly, would you trust any of the rest of them to carry this shit around carefully?” Ryan pointed out, and Michael pulled a face.

“Fair point.”

They started up the stairs in silence only for Michael to realise one of the bags wasn't quite zipped all the way. He paused on the landing to fix it, struggling when the zip caught in the bag's material. Ryan was staring at him and it wasn't until he looked up that he noticed that with the neck of his shirt falling aside as he bent over, the other man had a clear view of a dark hickey Ray had left on his collarbone. He fought not to flush, pulling his shirt back up to cover it.

“Someone had fun,” Ryan commented, because he was an asshole, and Michael scowled at him.

“What-fucking-ever. At least I'm getting some, unlike you.”

“Can't argue with that,” Ryan said, a little too easily, and Michael shifted, suddenly uncomfortable, because Gavin had popped into his mind again. _If Ryan wanted... if he put his mind to it, if he was patient and made a move slowly – he could have Gav, if he wanted. Gavin likes him._

Again, that nagging unsureness. _Gavin likes Ryan, but does he like me? Does he like Ray?_

He wasn't angry with Ryan, though – if anything the teasing note in his voice made him flush.

“I'm happy you two made up,” Ryan said then – something very sincere in his tone. “I know I've... said things before that might. That might have implied I didn't care, or thought you two shouldn't care for each other, but I... I was mistaken.”

“Ryan,” Michael started, but Ryan barrelled on.

“Gavin said something to me a while back. After Edgar took him. He said that you need people – you need to know they care about you, so you have that... reassurance that if something goes wrong, you can rely on them – that they'll help you.” He paused. “You helped me today.”

Michael frowned a little. He felt nervous suddenly, and did not like it. “I wasn't going to leave you to die.” And then, grudgingly, “Because, yeah. I care about you, God help me.”

“God help _me_ ,” Ryan replied, “And God knows I don't deserve it. But thank you. I do appreciate it.”

“I know you'd do the same for Ray,” Michael muttered. And then, straightening up, more confidently, “I know you'd do the same for _me.”_

“You're right,” Ryan replied, “I would.”

They stared at each other a moment longer before picking up the bags again. And they were both straightforward enough that nothing more needed to be said, really – but Michael’s heart was pounding now and it wasn't just from the exertion of carrying the ordnance up the stairs.

Ryan cared. Any lingering tension between them was gone now – and suddenly, suddenly, like some barrier had been lifted, Michael could fit him into the picture he'd painted in his mind's eye.

He was still _Ryan_ – still awkward and gruff and a little tentative, but he was _there_ – lifting his mask almost shyly to press a chaste kiss to Ray's lips. Standing in that kitchen in the morning with Geoff and Jack, leaning against the counter, blending into that environment as seamlessly as he fit himself in everywhere else. Pushing Gavin against the counter the way Michael imagined he might have that time Ray walked in on them – after a moment's hesitation, he substituted the imaginary Gavin with himself. Tried to picture what Ryan's calloused fingers might feel like pressing against his jaw, his shoulders, the skin of his chest.

He realised, then, that he had a lot more to think about than just Jack and Geoff now. It wasn't just one something or two somethings now that he was toying with in his mind, it was _four_ , and _fuck that was too many_ , like a child overindulging to extremes – but he couldn't stop. He couldn't stop.

 _Take it slow,_ he kicked himself – Gavin and Ryan would already probably bolt at the mere suggestion of getting with one other person in the group, let alone everybody else.

_Take it slow. Jack and Geoff._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some [more](http://gumbaro.tumblr.com/post/101729563461/more-scared-michael-and-gavin-while-they-are-in) [awesome](http://gumbaro.tumblr.com/post/101729922821/sometimes-as-like-a-personal-art-challenge-i-draw) [fanart](http://gumbaro.tumblr.com/post/101731074561/nervous-sweating-i-scanned-this-directly-from-my) by gumbaro!  
>  
> 
> Also, jinglin-flightless drew this [awesome freewood fanart](http://jinglin-flightless.tumblr.com/post/101473892599/james-and-david-freewood-so-guess-who-started) for the story. Thank you both so much <3


	18. Chapter 18

Gavin had spent a good portion of his career being hired to monitor people and find out whether or not they were banging. It meant that by now, he was very good at telling.

Ray and Michael had fucked.

He could tell the moment they walked back into his apartment, which, you know. Was hella awkward.

And it shouldn't have been, because they were _together_ and they were all adults here and it was bound to happen sooner or later, but given Gavin's recent turmoil over the whole situation it suddenly flustered him. Made an odd sort of tingle crawl over his skin when he looked at the two of them, the easy affection that had somehow blossomed even deeper. The casual way Ray touched Michael's arm as they sat down at the table to pore over the map Gavin had set out, and how there was something small and secretive to Michael’s smile now.

 _You are terrible,_ Gavin chastised himself – and decided to blame it all on his six month long dry streak. Which under any other circumstances he might have found embarrassing, were said dry streak not due to, well. Devastating emotional trauma.

“That's the train route,” he said, turning back to the map and deciding to distract himself with work. “It takes nearly an entire day to get from point A to point B. That'll be on Wednesday. Gives us a little while to plan.”

“What are you thinking?” Jack asked, turning to Geoff.

He stroked his chin thoughtfully. “I'm thinking stop the train. There's no way we can sneak that gold out so it'll have to be full on Ned Kelly.”

Ryan nodded. “I agree. It'll be too hard to get the gold off it while it's still moving.”

“There'll be at least a couple of guards directly around the gold. Probably more in plainclothes throughout the carriages,” Gavin said. “If I get on board and have a little time, I can probably work out who most of them are.”

“I don't want you in the line of fire,” Geoff said, immediately. “So you and one of us should stay in the cargo carriage. You can work from there and report back to us.”

“I'll do it,” Jack said, and cast Gavin a small smile. He smiled back, reassured by the precautions they were taking.

“I'll stop the train,” Michael said, with a thoughtful hum. “There's a crossing here,” he jabbed a finger at the map. “I blow it up when the train is just in the distance and it'll have time to brake. No one will get hurt but it won't be able to move on.”

“That leaves Ray, Ryan and I to get the gold and take out the guards,” Geoff said. “Michael, you can come in for backup once we stop if we need you. Seems solid to me.”

“Our problem is gonna be setting Michael up out there,” Gavin said with a frown. “Driving all the way to that point will take a long time, and we don't want to get there too early. I don't doubt they’ll be monitoring the route until the last minute.”

“That's right in the middle of the countryside, too, there're no roads nearby,” Ray pointed out.

“Come in from above then,” Geoff determined. “We get a helicopter and we can drop him right down where we need him. I can get us one. We'll pull in Kdin, too. He can fly Michael in and then stick around and be our getaway.”

“Top,” Gavin announced – and felt a small sort of thrill; this was the part of the job he liked. Planning out something solid – something exciting, almost. The fact that they were up against the couriers and not Edgar was reassuring; it felt like taking a break, which was exactly what he needed right now. “Tomorrow we'll start organising the chopper and the ordnance, then. I'll start pulling up what I can on the couriers. It'll make it easier for me to work out who's working for them once we get on the train.”

It was very late by now, and they dispersed, all tired. With some days to spare before they actually had to pull the heist, it would be good to rest up a little. They had been running full steam for so long now that it was getting draining; usually between jobs people would stop for days if not weeks to rest and recuperate. But they were all smiling when they moved off to prepare for bed, and everything seemed easier between them, more fluid.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Gavin did not dream that night. Since he'd started taking the sleeping pills in a higher dosage they'd knocked him out deeply enough that nightmares didn't come, or if they did he didn't remember them. The downside was that they left him somewhat drowsy during the day, and he woke too late the next morning; feeling sluggish and dazed as he traipsed off to the bathroom. It wasn't until he got back into the main room that he realised the apartment was oddly quiet and, in fact, most of the others were out. The only person he could see was Ryan, out on the balcony again.

Blinking groggily, he walked over and rapped on the balcony door. Ryan turned and waved.

“Good morning. Or should I say good afternoon.”

“Why didn't one of you wake me up?” Gavin complained, reaching up to rub at his eyes. A fog still hung over his mind, and he frowned a little as he realised that the sleeping aids weren't a permanent solution. They were leaving him too drowsy, and he needed to be up and alert. There would be a lot of work to do to get this gold, and after that to get Edgar. But for now, it was better than the bone-heavy weariness that came with pulling an all-nighter or waking up five times in a cold sweat.

“You seemed like you could use the rest,” Ryan replied. “The others went out a couple hours ago. Jack and Geoff are going to arrange that chopper; the other two are picking up some more ammo and a couple of explosives for Michael.”

 _Or banging in a bathroom stall somewhere_ , Gavin thought, and then kicked himself. And he wasn't... he wasn't jealous about it, or bitter, but he had seen the way the two of them were looking at him over the last couple of days. Not knowing what they wanted – what they _expected_ of him – was starting to get to him a bit.

Shaking it off, he pulled open the balcony door and glanced at Ryan. “Want a coffee?”

He expected him to say no, but to his surprise Ryan hesitated, then shrugged.

“Sure,” he said, and came inside.

They sat in a companionable silence as the kettle boiled, Gavin pulling out his laptop to get started on some belated work and Ryan seemingly lost in thought. It wasn't until Gavin had poured their drinks that he saw Ryan reach up to pull off his mask and hesitated a little.

Ryan looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “Well, I could hardly drink through it, could I?”

“I... yeah, right, I guess,” Gavin replied, a little startled. “I just didn't think you'd take it off so easily is all.”

“There's no one here but you, and you've already seen my face,” Ryan pointed out.

Gavin nodded. That was true, but it was still always a bit of a surprise to him. His gaze tracked along Ryan's jaw, the long curve of his throat as he swallowed a sip of coffee, before he jerked it away back to his screen. It wasn't until a few moments later that something struck him, and he leaned forward.

“You're part of the main train party with Geoff and Ray.”

“Yes,” Ryan replied, “What of it?”

“Well, that mask's gonna have to come off, innit? You can't wear it on the train or people will be suss.”

Ryan paused and went a little stiff in his chair. Gavin stared at him.

“You did realise that,” he said slowly, “Didn't you?”

“Of course,” Ryan replied, but Gavin thought it might have been a lie.

“Geoff will probably have to disguise himself somehow too,” Gavin mulled, “Those couriers will know of him. I wonder if I can convince him to shave the moustache off.” He looked at Ryan again but the other man didn't seem to be listening; he was staring deep into his coffee mug.

“Ryan?” Gavin asked, softly. “If you don't want to take it off you can probably go with Michael instead.”

Ryan shook his head. “No – we need three of us on the train to take out those couriers. There'll be a lot of them, that gold being as valuable as it is.”

“Swap with Jack then?” Gavin suggested.

Ryan shook his head again. “Geoff will be conspicuous enough on his own. Geoff and Jack together even more so. No, we need to keep it how it is.” He straightened up in his chair a bit. “Half of you have seen my face already. The others probably would have eventually.”

“Really?” Gavin asked. “You think so?”

Ryan paused, seeming to realise he'd almost given too much away.

“Well,” he said finally, “Geoff's offered me a job after all this. And once Edgar is dead, I... I suppose there's less incentive for me to hide away all the time.”

All Gavin could do was sort of stare at him. They were admissions he never thought he'd hear the other man make – little indicators of the progress he'd made so far. How much he trusted them all now. Suddenly he found himself smiling and couldn't quite work out why. Ryan looked at him, and then looked away, seeming almost embarrassed.

“Ray will be happy about that,” Gavin said, finally, and turned back to his typing.

He expected that to end the conversation, but to his surprise Ryan leaned forward and closed his laptop. Gavin glanced up at him, startled – then froze as he realised the odd intensity in the other's gaze. His face was closer to Gavin's than he'd anticipated as he leaned across the table, and he licked his lips a bit nervously. He didn't miss the way Ryan's eyes tracked the movement.

“Speaking of Ray,” Ryan began, and Gavin felt his heart sink. _Okay, so we're gonna talk about this._ The other man continued, “I'm not blind. I've seen you pulling back from him and Michael.”

“Okay, first off, please don't shut my laptop while I'm working again; if I'm in the middle of something you could stuff it up,” Gavin said. Ryan nodded apologetically. “Second, that's not really any of your business.”

“You don't need to worry,” Ryan said, “They're not gonna make a move on you.”

If that was supposed to make him feel better, it was doing a damn poor job. If anything Ryan had only _confirmed_ Gavin's suspicions, making his potential Michael-and-Ray problem into a _definite_ Michael-and-Ray problem. His shoulders slumped a little.

“That doesn't matter,” he replied, “Doesn't change the fact that …. that they both, what, are into me? I don't... it's not something I need right now.”

“How do you feel about it?”

“I don't _know,_ Dr Phil, how the hell would you feel about it?” Gavin replied, a little hysterically, and Ryan scoffed out something like a laugh as he sat back in his chair.

“I get where you're coming from, okay?” he said. “God knows I've had a few... unexpected revelations about letting people in over the last few weeks. But pushing them away is only going to hurt you and it's only going to hurt them, and you won't get any closer to figuring things out.”

That may be so, Gavin thought, but it would still keep him safe. He just nodded, pressing his lips together and opening his laptop again, and Ryan didn't push. Just gathered their empty coffee mugs and went to put them in the sink.

He wandered back out onto the balcony again after that, and Gavin soon lost himself in work, tracking down all the members and people associated with the couriers that he could find. Compiling names and photos of them would make it easier to identify them once they were on the train. He didn't realise he'd been working for a couple of hours until Ryan came back in, sweeping into the kitchenette suddenly enough to make him jump.

“Get up and stretch,” the other man ordered. “Before you develop forward-head.”

“Pretty sure I've already got it,” Gavin replied, but he closed his computer and obeyed. His back cracked rather alarmingly when he stretched and he was pretty sure he heard Ryan laugh – something small and amused and much more genuine than Gavin had expected. He smiled a bit.

“Much progress?” Ryan asked, and Gavin nodded.

“Getting there. It's slow work sometimes.”

“Take a break,” Ryan said then. “I want to do something with you.”

Gavin stiffened, eyes darting across to him suspiciously. “Do... something?”

Maybe it was the fact that all day Michael and Ray had been lurking at the back of his mind, but the places his brain went to at that were more in the gutter than not.

“Continue your self defence lessons,” Ryan explained, and Gavin nodded, letting out a breath – suddenly unsure if he felt disappointed or relieved.

“Oh,” he said, “Right. Uh, are you sure? You're kind of banged up right now, I don't want to make it worse.” Ryan was still moving a little stiffly, though the swelling in his ankle had gone down – but the mercenary began to laugh uproariously at Gavin's concern. In fact, he laughed so hard that Gavin was half afraid he'd injure himself further.

“What?” he asked, crossly, a bit embarrassed, “I'm just worried!”

“Trust me, Gav,” Ryan said with a snigger, “There is no way in the world you'd be able to injure me more.”

Gavin huffed a bit. “You watch out,” he warned, “I stabbed a guy, you know.”

“Yes, yes, of course you did.”

“And don't forget the fire extinguisher.”

“Okay, tough guy,” Ryan said – and the light amusement in his tone had Gavin grinning soon as well. “Come on, let's move the couch so we have a bit more space.”

They cleared the furniture aside and it wasn't until he was standing, awkwardly facing Ryan in the centre of the room, that he suddenly began to feel a bit nervous. It had been different with Michael and Ray; there had been two of them, then, and they hadn't been alone in the flat, and he hadn't, you know, got a history of making out with them. But Ryan was all professionalism, and there was nothing untoward in the way he grabbed Gavin's arm and tugged him a bit closer.

“I'm not going to go easy on you,” he warned suddenly. “My aim here is to make sure if something goes wrong you can at least stun someone enough to get away, and mollycoddling you won't achieve anything. But if I hurt you or you think you're about to panic, tell me.”

“Okay,” Gavin replied – and relaxed a little, oddly touched by the other’s concern.

Ryan was not kidding; Michael and Ray had gone far softer on him, it seemed. They'd fooled around a bit and if he mucked something up the worst they'd do was knock him over or tell him off. Ryan was far tougher; if Gavin failed to block or duck a punch he'd let it connect – still holding back a bit, since the last thing he wanted was for Gavin actually to get injured, but it only took a couple of bruises and biting his tongue twice for Gavin – who had, tired as he was, perhaps not been taking things entirely seriously - to straighten up a bit and pay more attention.

And for a little while, he was into it. The idea of being capable enough to save himself – of not having to rely on the others constantly, to have that creeping nagging fear that if they left him, or were separated, or were taken down themselves then he’d be helpless – it was appealing.

But quickly – quickly he began to grow frustrated. Ryan had said he wouldn’t hold back but Gavin wasn’t quite sure how he was meant to be learning by being constantly thrown to the ground.

“Ease up a bit won’t you?” he demanded, finally, after hitting the floor for the fifth time in the span of two minutes.

“Edgar’s men aren’t going to ease up on you,” Ryan shot back. He didn’t help Gavin up – hadn’t the entire time. It was supposedly ‘character building’ for him to pick himself up off the carpet.

Gavin spluttered out a mouthful of lint. “How am I meant to improve when the second I move towards you you just grab me and throw me?”

“You’ll have to move faster then, won’t you?” Ryan said. “Now stop complaining.” At these last words there was something a little harsher in his tone, and Gavin frowned, but moved to throw another punch.

Things sort of deteriorated rapidly after that; he’d been tired to begin with and adding bruises to his collection didn’t help matters. His punches grew sloppier, his efforts to worm free whenever Ryan grabbed him more half hearted.

“Let’s stop now,” he grunted finally, when Ryan got him in a headlock yet again.

“Not until you get me at least once,” Ryan replied.

Gavin pushed at his elbow but he was stronger than Michael had been when they did this same thing. He tried to kick back at Ryan but the other easily shifted out of the way.

“That’s not how you do it,” he chided, “What did I just tell you?”

“To go for the bloody elbow, and I did, but you’re too strong!”

“Oh, boo hoo, the person you’re fighting is bigger than you. Newsflash, Gavin, they’re almost always going to be.” He shoved Gavin away and pushed him to the ground again. Gavin grit his teeth as he threw his hands out to stop his fall.

His constant failure was starting to wear at him. He'd been determined to prove himself _to_ himself – and to Ryan too – but with each humiliating defeat his spirit dropped a little more. He clambered to his feet and scowled.

“I have work to do,” he said, and made to turn back towards his computers.

Ryan grabbed his arm and yanked him roughly back. He shook him forcefully and Gavin suddenly realised that he was really, properly annoyed.

“You can't be a fucking _quitter_ , Gavin. I'm not teaching you this shit for the fun of it. This could be the difference between you living and dying out there. One second. One punch-”

Gavin swung at him, enraged, but it was feeble – clumsy – his muscles sore from hours of repeating the same movement over and over. Ryan didn't even bother to dodge it; the punch hit his cheek but didn't so much as move his head.He retaliated with a blow of his own, striking out with the heel of his hand in a hit that snapped Gavin's head sideways. He stumbled, tasting blood, but before he could fall Ryan seized him and yanked him back against his chest.

Ryan's grip was tight around him, almost painfully so. He panted, struggling – head down, hair hanging limp and sweaty over his eyes, blood dripping from his split lip to the floor.

“You're not even _trying_ ,” Ryan hissed – arms latching tighter, hard enough to hurt.

“I don't want to do this anymore.” He was tired to the bones, a sleep-drug fog wearing him down. Tired and sore and sick of being reminded of his own helplessness.

“You don't get to quit when someone's really coming after you,” Ryan chided. “Take me down and I'll let you stop.”

Gavin grit his teeth. Swung an elbow back towards Ryan's face but missed wildly, harmlessly striking his cheek with the flat of his upper arm.

“Not good enough,” Ryan said, and flipped him again. Gavin grunted as he crashed to the floor for what seemed the hundredth time – the sharp edge where the living area carpet met the kitchenette tiles grazed the skin of his wrist as he landed, hard enough to scrape blood.

“You suck,” he grumbled, exhausted and more than ready to quit.

Ryan stared impassively down at him. He seemed a little worn down as well; grouchy after hours of laborious instruction.

“Why do I suck?” he demanded coolly. “For trying to keep you alive?”

“For just being an asshole.” Gavin picked himself up and licked at his wrist, pulling a face. “Ever heard of positive reinforcement?”

“Positive reinforcement won't get you anywhere if someone grabs you and snaps your neck.”

“Yeah, well. Michael and Ray managed to teach me just fine-” he broke off with a gasp as suddenly, fast as lightning, Ryan moved behind him. A hand wrapped firmly around his throat – not enough to cut off air, but enough to be a threat. Gavin's hand moved up to grasp Ryan's wrist, tugging, but he couldn't move him an inch. His heart thundered; blood pounding in his ears, in the pulse of his throat under the hard press of Ryan's thumb. The other's chest too close against his back. He closed his eyes briefly, suddenly thinking of Edgar, and how he'd crept behind him. Touched him. _Choked him._ But Ryan's body was warm. Edgar's had been disturbingly cold.

“I could kill you right now,” Ryan said – voice low. The tone Gavin had come to hate from him. Cold and detached and _mad mercenary_ . “I would, if I had a mind to. If I was one of Edgar's men. They won't hesitate. Don't you _get that_ ? You _need_ to learn this.”

“Ryan, please-” He was breathing a little too fast now. Felt small and weak and _hated it_.

Ryan's hand pressed tighter and involuntarily Gavin jerked back. Struck out with his lower body as Ryan had shown him earlier – tailbone snapping outwards to slam into Ryan's groin. Elbow swinging around to smash against his jaw. The grip loosened and he scrambled free, panting. And promptly managed to trip over his own feet almost instantly and wind up sprawled on the floor.

“...better,” Ryan said.

Gavin rolled over, groaning, and glared up at him – but there was something approving, almost proud in Ryan's eyes, even as he reached up under the mask to rub his jaw. He extended a hand out to help Gavin up for the first time.

The front door clicked and both of them spun. It was Jack who entered, taking two steps into the room before he stopped, eyes trailing over the misplaced furniture, then the two of them.

“Self-defence lessons,” Gavin explained, grasping Ryan's hand and letting him haul him to his feet. Jack nodded in understanding.

“Geoff's just down in the car making a call,” he informed them. “Then he's going to head back out to pick up Michael and Ray.”

“I'll do it,” Ryan spoke up. “Let him come in and have a break.”

He glanced at Gavin, who nodded, a little relieved he was going. After the last few strenuous hours he felt all up and down, unsure where he sat with the other man. On the one hand, he was still a little annoyed at being pushed so brutally hard, on the other, touched by his taking the time and the trouble. An odd longing for his approval. But they'd seen too much of each other in that concentrated span of time – he needed the distance.

Ryan left and Gavin turned to start tugging the couch back to its usual place. Jack hurried to help him.

“I got it,” he said, gently shouldering Gavin aside. “You just get the coffee table. Then grab me that first aid kit, I'll patch you up.”

Gavin nodded, moving to comply. He was sore and aching as he headed to the bathroom to get the kit, but it was undercut by the almost pleasant sort of burn of exercise well done.

“Wow,” Jack said, when he returned. “He really did a number on you.”

He pushed gently at Gavin's shoulder, nudging him down onto the couch.

“He favours the stick to the carrot,” Gavin grumbled, wincing a bit as Jack dabbed at his lip.

Jack eyed him warily. “You two didn't argue, did you?”

“No, but...”

But what? He didn't know how to explain it. That he'd felt awkward being so physically close to Ryan after all that had happened. That he'd hated to feel so feeble and useless before him, reminded of his own weakness at every turn – that the thought of managing to hold his safety in his own hands had been _terrifying_ – he'd been afraid of failing, afraid of proving to himself and Ryan and all the rest of them that he still was that helpless victim who'd been left behind. Andrew's bait for Barry, nothing more. Collateral damage. _Cannon fodder_.

Jack stared at him a long moment. His hands were gentle as he wiped dried blood from Gavin's chin. His touch soft as he grasped his wrist and started cleaning that as well.

“He cares about you,” Jack said quietly. The antiseptic stung. “It scares him.”

“It damn well scares me too,” Gavin said, without thinking about it. He paused, afraid he'd revealed too much – but Jack only looked up with a minute smile, confirming Gavin's suspicions that he already knew all too well what his problems were.

“We all want to keep you safe,” Jack said. The words made Gavin duck his head, suddenly almost flustered. “It's high time you learned enough to at least escape a bad situation. But in the mean time, we'll look after you.” He paused in his ministrations. Waited until Gavin looked him in the eye before saying, earnestly, “I won't let anything happen to you on that train.”

Gavin stared back at him. Nodded. Smiled back as Jack smoothed a bandaid over the cut on his wrist.

The door opened again and they looked up as Geoff entered. He smiled at both of them, and Gavin felt somewhat more settled as he grinned back.

“Hey,” Geoff said, striding over. The casual ease in the way he wrapped a hand around the back of Jack's head to pull him into a kiss made something curl in Gavin's stomach, something warm and almost comforting.

Because he was afraid – he'd as well as admitted it, to himself and Ryan and Jack. Afraid of putting his trust so completely into someone else – afraid of getting hurt again, even now. He couldn't even deal with being let down by acquaintances, workmates – let alone friends. _Let alone lovers_.

But seeing Geoff and Jack like that – the familiarity in their movements that spoke of a routine, a relationship, a _trust_ built up over long years in a job where almost everyone you met was a wolf, a snake, unreliable...

That wasn't something to be afraid of. That was a stability he wanted – _needed_.

And it nearly scared him half to death to realise it, but he did trust them. Enough to imagine letting himself fall that close to someone else, closer, more intimately than he'd even allowed Dan.

Not just with Jack but _all_ of them – Ryan, Geoff, Ray and Michael too.

And not just after the years Geoff and Jack had together. Here. _Now_.

“Hi to you too, Karate Kid,” Geoff said then, reaching out to chuck him under the chin. Gavin laughed and squirmed away but an odd disappointment had filled him. The gesture was affectionate enough but suddenly, suddenly he wanted more.

He wasn't sure what 'more' meant. _A kiss? But not just a kiss – the same way he kisses Jack?_

Again that odd, hesitant nervousness filled him, and he turned his head away and quickly got up to go back to his work.

 

* * *

 

 

Ryan cornered him in the apartment later that night, after the others had all come in, in a quiet moment as they sat about organising their own portions of the plan. Gavin stiffened a little, still feeling a bit awkward, but Ryan's shoulders were loose and relaxed, the irritated tension from earlier dissipated, and after glancing around to make sure the others were still out in the main area – Gavin had retreated to the bedroom – he even took off his mask. There was something apologetic in his eyes that made Gavin feel suddenly guilty himself for all his earlier whinging.

“I'm sorry if I scared you before,” Ryan said, and Gavin shook his head.

“You didn't. Not really.”

“You understand why I pushed you?”

“Yeah.”

“I... I know you think I'm a crap teacher, but.” He paused, swallowing, suddenly almost _nervous_. “I've done this before. Trained people. Tried to build them up. Tried to build a crew up. But it wasn't enough, in the end.” He paused, looked away – suddenly vulnerable. Gavin could barely breathe to look at him. He thought he should reach out, but felt abruptly unsure of himself. After a minute Ryan looked back at him, intently. “I need it to be enough for you. That's why.”

“Ryan...” Finally pushing himself into motion, he scooted across the bed and rested a hand on the other's knee. “It's not one hundred percent on you to keep me safe.”

They weren't words he'd ever thought he'd utter, because that was the crux of it – it _was_ his team's obligation to protect him, which was why it had been a big deal for Andrew to leave him behind – but it shouldn't just be on one person.

“Doesn't mean I'm not going to try,” Ryan said – and Gavin smiled at him, and after a moment he smiled back, and an odd sort of tension frittered between them for a moment. They were close, both sitting on the end of the bed, and Gavin was acutely aware of everything that could happen if just one of them made a move.

But before either of them could, there was a rap at the door, and they both jerked around – Ryan reaching up to pull his mask on quickly. He wasn't quite fast enough, but it was Michael who entered, anyway – and his eyebrows rose as he realised that Ryan had taken it off, gaze darting between them before a slight frown crossed his face. He didn't comment, though, just cleared his throat and looked away a little awkwardly.

“Gav? Geoff wants to show you something.”

Gavin nodded, scrambling off the bed. He followed Michael out quickly. His unease had returned at the other's reaction – at the reminder that he was tangled up in a more complicated web of relationships and what-ifs than he really wanted to be right now – but whatever Michael was thinking, he was quickly distracted by Geoff.

And it was that moment, that night, that Gavin started to notice. It was a trend that would carry on all week and once he started picking up on it he couldn't stop.

As they ducked their heads over the maps Michael gave Geoff a small, intimate smile – his eyes on the older man more often than not the entire meeting. And when they finished the conversation and Gavin himself got up to go to bed he noticed the way Michael stepped closer to Geoff, leaning in to talk, quietly. Caught what he said, despite it being in an undertone, lips closer to Geoff's ear than Gavin thought was perhaps necessary.

“Think we'll get in all right without them noticing? If they realise something's up these guys will be prepared to take us down. Outnumbered and in that confined space... shit could get messy.”

“We'll be fine. We've faced worse. Besides, with Ryan and Ray at my back I think those couriers are up against more than they can handle.”

A laughing scoff. “That's about right.”

And the way Geoff's hand moved to squeeze Michael's shoulder reassuringly – the grin they exchanged before turning back over the map, heads a little too close together-

A cold hand seemed to squeeze Gavin's stomach, nearly making him choke, because he had _seen this before_. So many times. And it continued over the course of the week, not just between Geoff and Michael, but Jack and Ray and the four of them.

Because here was the thing – here was the thing, Gavin had studied people for a long, long time. Spent hours pouring over the most innocuous of details slowed to a crawl – tells and minute expressions, intimate little motions that were more often than not unconscious. He'd seen people falling in and out of lust – in and out of _love_ – had picked up when people were interested but not acting on it, or interested and _planning_ on acting on it – and

And-

And this was the latter. By God, this was the latter.

Somewhere along the line he'd missed something, some shift, because what was happening now wasn't unconscious – it was like Michael and Ray were testing the waters and the other two had very quickly picked up on it.

And all he could do now was notice, and notice, and notice.

There were little things – like that oddly nervous tone to Ray's voice that he'd picked up on – God, it seemed like months ago but it could barely have been a fortnight back – when he'd spoken to Jack that time they sat in McDonalds. Talking a little too fast, a little too excitedly.

Things like how Michael and Ray seemed to be _watching_ the two older men constantly – how their gazes lingered a little too long when Jack and Geoff kissed, or held hands. How sometimes Michael seemed lost in moments of deep thought triggered by nothing more than the presence of one of the other two.

He caught snatches of their conversations, too – it was impossible not to, in the confined space of the apartment as they frantically planned and prepared for the heist.

“Been thinking about it,” Gavin heard Ray say one night, after he'd woken sluggishly in a cold sweat, quite sure he'd been dreaming but unable to remember what about. Jack was keeping watch out on the balcony, Ryan and Geoff dead to the world in sleeping bags in the main room with Gavin, who had claimed the couch. Michael and Ray still had the bedroom, and they obviously thought everyone else was asleep; the door was slightly ajar where Michael had gone in after his watch and now their conversation drifted out so that if Gavin strained, he could hear it.

“And?” Michael's voice eager almost.

“And... yeah. Maybe.”

“Yeah or maybe? Because there's a big fucking difference there, Ray.”

“Yeah, I think I'd like to, but... maybe because I'm not sure? I don't fucking know, what if what I'm imagining isn't what it would actually be like? What if they... what if we've misread this whole thing? And what about...” his next word was swallowed by what sounded like a kiss, but Gavin had caught part of it. Enough for him to think it might have been his name.

He didn't sleep for the rest of that night, an odd, churning sort of nervousness in the pit of his stomach.

After that conversation things seemed to pick up almost. Deliberate touches – more from Michael than Ray – both of them oddly nervous about it, but gaining confidence as Geoff and Jack responded with a languid deliberateness that made Gavin suspect they knew exactly what was going on.

“So it won't be a big explosion. More visible than anything else, and it'll disrupt the tracks enough that the train can't go on. But there'll be little to no collateral and I won't have to be far from the blast zone,” Michael explained to them, in their final run-through of the plans on Tuesday afternoon, the day before they were due to pull the heist.

His words went in one ear and out the other to Gavin because all he could notice was the way Ray was looking at Michael – intently, almost adoringly, a small smile playing at his lips. The exact same expression was mirrored on Geoff's face – and Jack was watching Geoff watching Michael with something thoughtful in his eyes.

“You're fucking brilliant, you are,” Geoff said then – abruptly, out of nowhere, and Michael faltered off midway through a technical explanation.

“I... thanks.” His smile was smaller, shyer than any Gavin had seen him give before, his cheeks flushing a little. “I mean. To each their area of expertise or whatever.”

And Gavin – Gavin only realised, then, that for all he'd been watching the lot of them, he'd been staring at Michael as well, lost in the way he looked when he got in the zone. Admiring the concentration knit in his brow or the way the explanations fell easily from his lips with a professional ease, for once devoid of any curses.

It was attractive – too attractive, and when he turned away he found Ryan watching him. As soon as they made eye contact Ryan's gaze flicked away to the others and Gavin saw his eyes narrow a little beneath the mask. It seemed he wasn't the only one who'd noticed what was up.

And there had been something between the four of them, perhaps, since the start – something building up, because Gavin didn't know the whole story, how long they had known each other or the jobs the four of them had worked on before. But he knew what he'd seen since he joined them, and looking back at it he could see the forced proximity slowly, gradually building up something stronger than friendship between them – _between all of them, all six of you_ , his mind whispered unwanted, he forced it down – of course they'd be the first. The ones who'd known each other longest.

They had drinks that night, once they were as prepared as they would get. There was a nagging, lurking fear at the back of all their minds that despite Shadles being dead Edgar might somehow have still found out what they were planning. That he would come to interfere. But logically, Gavin knew the chances were slim – that as long as they stayed calm and alert things would likely work out just fine.

Alcohol and sleeping pills did not a good combination make, so Gavin hadn't been drinking for the last week or so. Truth be told, he was a little relieved; it freed him from having to decide whether he actually wanted to or not, and if so, how much. For now he stuck to coke with Ray.

The atmosphere that night was oddly happy; everyone was buzzing with the excitement of the upcoming heist, and Edgar's silence for the last few days along with the knowledge that the Duck and Shadles were dead had put the threat of the cow to the back of their minds. And with Michael and Ray's attention having turned to Geoff and Jack over the last few days, Gavin felt much more relaxed around them, the pressure of having to work out what to do having lifted somewhat.

“A toast,” Geoff declared then, as he finished pouring the fourth glass and slid it across the table to Michael, “To finding that gold and taking down the bastard. And also to you lot for sticking through this. I couldn't have asked for a better crew.”

“That went from badass to extremely gay in a matter of seconds,” Michael laughed, but knocked back his glass.

Geoff grinned around his glass. “I'd say the four of us are proof that you can be both badass and extremely gay with ease.”

“That's true,” Michael admitted.

Gavin glanced over at Ryan, who had paused. It was only then that he realised the other man had his glass in one hand and the edge of his mask in the other. He seemed about to take it off so that he too could drink – and the others had noticed Gavin's reaction now and were looking at Ryan as well. The room went very quiet.

“You're taking that off for the heist,” Geoff said softly – he himself had been growing his beard out for the last couple of days in a bid to disguise himself.

Ryan nodded. “Yeah.”

Jack reached out and touched his arm gently. “You don't have to take it off right now.”

“Might as well,” Ryan replied, but Gavin picked up on how tense he was. Remembered that he'd been nervous the first time, when it was just Gavin and Michael watching him. It must be even harder now, with how much closer he'd gotten to the others since. Geoff and Ray were staring at him with naked curiosity, even Michael looking a bit apprehensive.

Letting out a long breath, Ryan pulled the mask off. The silence that followed was not very dramatic. The others just sort of stared at him. On impulse, Gavin reached out under the table and squeezed Ryan's hand; he was sitting next to him and none of the others noticed. Ryan didn't turn to look at him, but squeezed back before pulling away.

“Nice,” Geoff said finally, and grinned at him before giving two thumbs up.

“My face?” Ryan questioned, with a half-hysterical sort of laugh, and Geoff shrugged.

“Yeah. I like it.”

“Thanks... I guess...” He took a sip of his drink and Gavin could see the way his hand was jittering slightly, from relief more than nerves. The way they built things up in their heads was always far worse than reality. He wasn't sure what Ryan had expected – for them all to scream in horror? It wasn't like he was horribly scarred or anything – but he could see how the other was still self-conscious under the others' stares.

“Thank you for trusting us,” Jack said finally, and Ryan's glance darted to him before he gave a small shrug.

“You've all proven yourselves,” he said gruffly. Which was sort of a ridiculous level of compliment coming from _him_.

Deciding to break the tension, Gavin raised his own glass. “To Ryan's extremely anticlimactic face!” he declared, and the others all rolled their eyes. Michael threw a handful of water-crackers at him.

“To Gavin's giant nose,” he shot back, “Which has managed to sniff out most of Edgar and the couriers' men. May it never fail us.”

“You bully!” Gavin cried, but still nearly choked laughing as they all drank to a series of increasingly ridiculous toasts ranging from Jack's beard to the sound the Duck's head had made upon being crushed (a touch macabre, perhaps, but it was laugh or cry about it at this point.)

Those of them who were drinking alcohol were careful not to actually get drunk, needing to be on top form for the next day. Still, they were tipsy enough, and got increasingly louder as Gavin and Ray mostly settled back to watch them.

Gavin couldn't help but smile a bit, finding himself oddly endeared – by how much Ryan was laughing, by the fact that with the mask off he could see him smiling properly, a wide, unrestrained grin. It suited him. He wished he could see him smile more often; it dropped the years and hardness from his face.

By the flush on Michael's cheeks – he couldn't tell if it was from the liquor or from the way he kept darting glances at Geoff, who had a hand rested on his shoulder, high enough that his fingers were just brushing the bare skin of his neck at the top of his collar, as he told a story.

And Geoff and Jack, relaxed in a cheery sort of ease that reeled the others in to join them. Gavin looked over at Ray and found him smiling fondly, and not just at Michael.

Their revelries died down at perhaps a pathetically early hour, but sleep was more important than anything else in preparation for a job, and they were all in good cheer as they set off for the night. Gavin went to clear away the table, and by the time he was finished at the kitchenette the rest of the flat was mostly dark and quiet. Michael and Ray were in the bedroom as usual, Ryan out on the balcony. There was no sign of the other two, and he figured they'd stepped out for a walk. As it was, there being no one in the flat meant he was free to change in the main room.

Changing in the dark had become habit for him; the mere thought of looking down and seeing the scars made him feel a bit sick. And maybe it was unhealthy to bottle it in, to cover it up, but seeing the physical proof of what had happened – what Barry had done to him – was the fastest way to bring back the memories he'd tried so hard to force away, to send him into a panic. It was why he hated the others seeing or acknowledging them.

Paying attention to things made them real, in his logic, anyway.

Finishing quickly, he reached for the pill bottle on the coffee table only to find it empty, and frowned – there was no way he'd sleep properly without the medication, not when he was already starting to feel nervous about the job tomorrow. Recalling that there was another bottle in the car, he grabbed his keys and headed down to get it.

He was out in the car park when he spotted Geoff and Jack standing on the other side of the courtyard. Geoff still had a beer in hand; they were looking up at the sky. It was a clear night for Autumn and a bright moon was shining down.

He had no intention of eavesdropping on them. But he didn't call out to them either, since they hadn't noticed him come out of the building. He had every intention of grabbing what he needed and going back inside, and, indeed, was halfway to doing so – until he heard Jack say his name.

“So what about Gavin, then?”

He paused, closing the car door quietly. Peered up over it to watch them and saw Geoff take a long, slow swig of beer.

“They're not going to move in on him. Not right now, anyway. But it looks like Michael has figured things out, at least.”

“He's figured out more than just that he likes Gavin too.”

“I know, I'm not blind, Jack.”

“So what are we going to do about it?” Jack asked. There was a moment of silence before he continued, “It's not... it's a big thing, you know. We're not just reaching out to one person here. Ray and Michael are a package deal.”

“I get that,” Geoff replied. “And I...” he trailed off, seeming unsure how to put it in words. “I want this.”

“Are you sure?”

“No,” Geoff snapped, sounding a little strained now. “I'm not fucking sure. I know I was the one who brought all this up but how can we _ever_ be sure about something this fucking _big_? It's not just a casual thing here-” He broke off, but it was too late, Jack stared at him then softened. Reached out to press his arm.

“I get it,” he said, “And same here. I want to do this properly. After Edgar. After all this has died down we can move things along.”

“The waiting is _killing me_ ,” Geoff groaned, “I know you're right but I keep wanting to just. Just _try_.”

“Ray and Michael certainly seem eager to try as well,” Jack commented, drily. “But it's not going to end with them, you know that. Gavin's tied up in this as well.”

“Is that the sticking point for you?” Geoff asked. “You're sure about Michael and Ray but not Gavin?”

Jack was quiet for a long moment and Gavin didn't know why that made his stomach drop. Why he suddenly felt _upset_ – why he wanted so badly for Jack to shake his head.

“That's not it,” Jack replied, and a warm hand seemed to squeeze Gavin's heart, sending blood rushing back into his extremities. The pill bottle was shaking in his grip. “I'm just saying. It's... it's going to be a big switch if we do this Geoff. Going from you and me to... to four of us. Possibly _five_ of us, if not...”

He trailed off but Gavin knew exactly what he'd been about to say. _Six._ There was an oddly vulnerable note in Jack's voice and Gavin suddenly realised that for all that the two older men played counsellor – for all that they'd been a solidly reassuring presence this whole time, seeming to always be perfectly in control, to know exactly what to do – they were as human and unsure and scared as the rest of them. And moving into a foursome was giving up as much as gaining – sacrificing the relationship you had before. Changing it irrevocably. Even if it was hopefully for the better, it was still scary.

And suddenly, even though he wasn't yet directly involved, Gavin felt terrified. Like the breath had been knocked from his body. Perhaps because he knew, at some level, that eventually he was going to be asked to make a choice – perhaps even more because he knew that deep down, he was already leaning towards saying _yes_.

 _I shouldn't be listening to this_ , he realised – as scared as he was, these were still just possibilitiesfor him. Geoff and Jack were facing that decision right here, right now – it was an intimate moment, especially as Geoff put his bottle down to draw Jack into his arms. It wasn't his place to be here, and he quickly slipped back inside, too much on his mind.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Geoff adjusted his sunglasses as he ducked into a window seat on the first class carriage of the Rural-Link, cross-country train. He glanced at his watch and pulled a face as he realised it was nearly a quarter to seven. They'd all been up since four, getting ready, but he was running on enough coffee and Red Bull to be awake and alert.

The carriage was beginning to fill with passengers, as the train was due to leave at seven, and he looked up. They'd entered the station at different times, not wanting to draw suspicion, and now he watched as Ray ducked into the carriage before moving to take a seat on the other side of the aisle to Geoff. He glanced across and caught Geoff's eye, mustering a small smile before pulling out his Nintendo and slouching back in his seat, tugging his hood up over his head.

“I'm playing the antisocial young nerd,” he murmured, voice filtering in through Geoff's earpiece, “Who will stare at a screen the whole time instead of the amazing cross-country scenery.”

“You certainly look the part,” Geoff replied with a grin.

He looked up again as Ryan walked in, and struggled not to do a double take. It was still so _weird_ , seeing him not just unmasked but wearing something other than his usual functional clothes. He was dressed like a regular traveller – hoodie, backpack, cap pulled low over his eyes. He sat down next to Geoff and gave him a small smile. Geoff smiled back, still a little taken aback by the sheer novelty of seeing his face.

He supposed he shouldn't have been surprised, seeing as Ryan had already revealed himself to Michael and Gavin. And sure, maybe the revelation had been a little anticlimactic, but it was still something big. Knowing what Ryan actually looked like... Geoff felt exponentially closer to him suddenly.

“You look like a hobo,” Ryan whispered, and Geoff snorted.

“It's the beard,” he said, reaching up to scratch at it. “Am I recognisable?”

“No, not at a glance,” Ryan replied. “Just hide behind a newspaper or something.”

“Should I cut out little eyes in the paper, too? Make it even more obvious?”

Ryan laughed again – and Geoff darted another little glance at him. Being able to see the mirth in his expression, the way a little grin tugged at his lips and his eyes crinkled a bit – it made something warm and horribly sappy swell in his chest. He realised he was staring and quickly looked away.

The last boarding call rang out, and everyone settled into their seats – the carriage was full by now and Geoff looked around, wondering if the couriers were sitting somewhere near them or in another part of the train. They set off, rattling out of the station, and he pulled out his phone. It would be at least a couple of hours before they reached the part of the railroad where Michael was waiting.

They were just out of the station and setting out towards the outskirts of the city when Gavin came wandering into the carriage. By all accounts he looked like he was heading for the dining car, as this led off from the first class carriage, but Geoff knew he was filming with the phone in his hand, capturing the faces of everyone on the train to compare them against his records of who worked for the couriers. He walked back out moments later, and it wasn't long before there was a hiss of static in Geoff's ear.

“Got everyone,” Gavin said through the earpiece. “Soon I'll know who we're dealing with.”

“Good,” Geoff murmured back. “You and Jack in the cargo carriage?”

“Yes,” Jack replied. “We're all set up here.”

“Michael texted me. He's still out with Kdin. He'll put in his comm once he arrives to start setting his explosives,” Ray said.

There was little to do after that but sit back and wait for the train to move on and Gavin to continue his work.

There was something oddly relaxing to the quiet and the gentle rocking motions of the train. Geoff leaned back in his seat, turning to look out the window as the city rattled by. It wasn't long before highways and factories began to give way to long stretches of countryside. They'd spent enough time outside of Achievement City in recent times that it wasn't as much of a novelty as it usually would have been, but sitting on a train was far more peaceful than having to drive. Without the pressure of Edgar, it felt more like a holiday, and Geoff couldn't help but smile a little.

He was looking forward to this all being over – but even so, he knew things wouldn't be the same. That he and Jack couldn't just slot into the usual routine of their life before. They'd have the others now. Michael and Ray – and with any luck, Ryan and Gavin too.

 _Michael and Ray_.

They'd been on his mind constantly the last couple of days. He turned in his seat to look at Ray, who had his hood up, hunched over his Nintendo, fingers fixed to the buttons. A small smile crossed Geoff's face at the intent concentration on the other's face, amused that it was triggered by a video game.

He'd been glad when the two of them stopped fighting. Glad and – almost _hopeful_ , because the two of them making up could only mean that they'd come to terms with the possibility of adding Gavin to their relationship. And the fact that they were open to something like that... Geoff hadn't considered the two of them being remotely interested in himself and Jack, mostly because he thought it was completely outside the realm of possibility. He'd thought about it, sure, but never seriously. Never allowed himself to hope properly.

But then – something had changed. He wasn't sure how or when but suddenly Michael and Ray were... while not directly flirting with them, behaving in a way that was clearly meant to show their interest.

And normally Geoff would have been surprised at just how quickly he jumped at the chance – how quickly he convinced himself that it was something he wanted – really, _really_ wanted – but this had been building for a while now. Perhaps he hadn't been aware of it, but that night up on the Ferris Wheel with Ray... the attraction had been clear, even there. And while the thought of the two of them joining his crew after all this was great, even that somehow still didn't feel like enough.

He couldn't stop thinking about it.

Couldn't stop thinking about what it might be like to get that much closer to them. It felt a little strange, since Michael and Ray were barely together themselves, but if anything – if anything that might even make it easier than trying to fuse two solidly established relationships.

Suddenly it was a possibility within reach, and as he'd told Jack before – the waiting was killing him. Knowing that things could so easily change was making him restless, antsy, impatient.

Ray shifted in his seat, brow furrowing a little at whatever was happening onscreen, and a stupid smile tugged at Geoff's lips. He didn't realise he was staring until Ryan turned towards him, and he jerked his gaze away quickly, almost guiltily.

Ryan raised his eyebrows at him, and Geoff flushed. He had no doubt that what was happening over the last few days had been obvious to Ryan and Gavin.

“Sue me,” Geoff mumbled, “He's cute.”

Ryan looked over at Ray as well – and smiled, softly, almost involuntarily. Something twitched, deep in Geoff's gut. There was something in that look – in the way Ryan looked at Gavin too, and Jack – but he forced it away.

It was still very strange, being able to actually see the other's facial expressions, and his mind drifted from Ray to Ryan –

(and it wasn't just Gavin they'd have to deal with even if things worked out with Ray and Michael; it was becoming more obvious by the day that there was something building between all of them in too many different combinations, but –

But –

But one step at a time.)

“How old are you, Ryan?” he asked abruptly.

Ray looked up, having heard through the earpiece even if Geoff had spoken quietly enough that those around them couldn't hear over the rumble of the train.

Ryan blinked a couple of times. “Why?” he asked.

Geoff shrugged. “Curious.”

Truth be told, Ryan looked younger than he expected; there had been something ageless about his moniker and mask, about the stories whispered about him for the last decade, but Geoff had thought he'd be closer to his age than Jack's.

Ryan paused a moment, seeming very thoughtful.

“Dude,” Ray spoke up, softly. It was strange to see his mouth move across the aisle but hear his voice through the earpiece. “As if you don't know how old you are.”

“I don't really do birthdays,” Ryan murmured. Geoff frowned. He knew that was typical, especially in their line of work, but there was still something very sad about the way he said it – something lonely.

Jack had told him about what Ryan had said during his little break down earlier. And fuck, he couldn't even imagine how hard that must have been – it had only fuelled his own hatred for Edgar, the thought that the man was planning to do the same thing to his own crew. Somehow the fact that Ryan's team had been smaller, weaker, made it all even worse. Geoff had seen the way he acted with Ray, Gavin, even Michael – slipping into the role of mentor, guardian like it was something he was too used to.

 _Fuck_.

“Thirty-three,” Ryan said finally. And then muttered, “I think.”

“Well I feel fucking old now,” Geoff joked.

“You _are_ old,” Jack spoke up in his ear.

“Fuck you. I'm flipping you off right now,” Geoff replied cheerily. “You can't see me, but I'm flipping you off.”

“You're probably rich enough to retire right now, right?” Ray asked.

Ryan shrugged. “Sure. Don't want to, though. I'd hate to retire young, I'd be bored out of my skull.”

“What do you do when you're not working?” Geoff asked, suddenly seized with curiosity. Putting a face to Ryan had abruptly reinforced the fact that he was human, that he existed outside of his job. That he went home to that apartment they'd stayed in and did... what? Sat about watching MasterChef? Suddenly Geoff wanted to see him in that environment, relaxed and homely. Not just see him. Be there with him. “Like, what are your interests?”

“I don't know,” Ryan replied, seeming a little flustered by all the attention.

“You play games?” Ray asked, and Geoff glanced across at him, amusement tugging at his lips.

“Is that all you do with your life, Ray?”

Ray shrugged. “Gotta have a hobby outside of killing people. Besides, what else will I spend my money on?”

“Nerd,” Geoff shot back, and Ray rolled his eyes.

“I know for a fact you game too. I saw your consoles back in your apartment.”

“Fuck, you caught me.”

“I play games sometimes,” Ryan replied. “They lose a little of the novelty when you spend your life in a real world version of _Hitman_ though.”

“Truth,” Ray muttered.

“Other than that...” Ryan shrugged. “I read, I guess. Movies. I'm quite keen on motorcycles.”

“I take it back, _you're_ the nerd,” Geoff said, and heard Jack laugh in his ear.

“The couriers are in the carriage next to you,” Gavin spoke up suddenly – he'd been quiet, focused on his work, and now they all snapped back to attention. “Three of them – two men and a woman. They're all sitting together. Red hoodie, guy with a really tall faux-hawk, blonde lady. I'm guessing the man's briefcase is a decoy and the gold's actually in the woman's handbag.”

“I'll go check them out,” Ryan said, and rose from his seat, heading out to the next carriage, presumably under the guise of going to the bathroom.

“Sorting through the others now,” Gavin said. “I'll let you know once I have them.”

They settled into silence again and Geoff was left once more with his thoughts.

Ray bringing up his apartment had his mind turning back towards _home_. He thought of what it might be like to return back there not just with Jack but with Ray and Michael as well. It would be hard to fit them all in the bedroom – but he was jumping ahead of himself there. He imagined himself sprawled on the couch, Michael beside him. How his arm might fit comfortably around the other man's shoulders. Their fluid banter over whatever stupid shows were on TV late into the night. Or Ray's easy presence in the lounge, playing at his games, Jack working in a comfortable silence at the desk beside him.

Ryan and Gavin were still pushing at the fringes of his mind – because there was a place for them too, if only Geoff would let them in – but he forced them to stay for the time being.

God. He wanted it _so badly_ and it _sucked_ because he knew Jack was right – knew the novelty or the excitement of it might be clouding his judgement, that rushing into things would be rash – that he might be building things up in his mind instead of thinking logically.

Ryan slipped back into the seat next to him, making him jump.

“There's one woman in first class with you who works for them,” Gavin spoke up. “She's sitting two rows behind you, Ray. The bird with red hair and headphones on. She's the only one in that carriage; take her down and you're fine on that side of the train.”

“We order all the civilians into first class,” Ryan murmured. “Seal off that door and then take down the couriers.”

“There are four others scattered through the other carriages,” Gavin continued. “Your biggest problem is if they come in and pin you down. You'll be outgunned. You'll have to barricade and then camp that other side and stop them coming in until we have the gold. Then work your way through to us and we'll get out from the other cab.”

“Sounds good,” Ryan said. “How long until we hit the crossing?”

“Two hours,” Gavin replied. “Michael should be heading out by now.”

Geoff settled back again.

This was meant to be a scenic trip, and now that they were far out enough from the city, the view outside began to get more impressive and Geoff was happy to occupy himself by watching it and playing with his phone. Again he fell into an oddly peaceful quiet – yet somehow remained acutely aware of Ryan beside him and Ray only a short distance away. If anything their company settled him – Ryan's soft breaths beside him, for once not muffled by his mask. The way that if he squinted he could see Ray's reflection in the window before him, his bright purple hoodie and the quick, quiet motion of his thumbs across the game console.

He could hear Gavin and Jack talking quietly, laughing occasionally, but they'd turned their earpieces down so he couldn't quite catch their conversation. He didn't particularly mind; the rise and all of their voices was soothing anyway, and he fell into a daze, thoughts drifting around nothing in particular. When there was a snap of static in his ear followed by Michael's loud voice, he nearly jumped out of his skin.

“ _'Sup bitches!_ ” In the background, the faint whir of helicopter blades pulling away. “I have arrived! Did you miss me?”

“You were literally gone, like, five hours,” Ray huffed, something affectionate in his laugh.

“And that was five hours too many, baby,” Michael jeered back. “Anyway. I'm at the crossing. Took out the guy there. Kdin's gone off a little way so we don't look too suss. Setting the charges now.”

“There's an hour until we arrive, Michael,” Gavin informed him. “I'll let you know when we're about a kilometre away.”

“Make that a mile, Mr Metric System,” Michael replied.

His appearance had kicked a little life into all of them, as they'd been dozing off a bit, tired after their early start that morning. Geoff began to run through the plan in his mind, his gun a heavy present weight under his jacket.

“As soon as the train stops, Ray, you take out the woman behind you,” he whispered. “Then get everyone in this carriage down. Ryan, you and I storm the next cab and get our guns on the couriers stat, before they can pull their own weapons.”

“Roger that,” Ray muttered.

That hour seemed to both drag on and pass too quickly; the waiting killed, but when he heard Gavin clear his throat in his ear it seemed too soon.

“Michael, we're coming up. Get ready to blow those charges.”

“Okay. Everyone ready?”

Geoff put his hand to his gun, heart already pounding with anticipation.

“Go,” he ordered.

A distant explosion rang out, making the whole train rattle and rock. Gasps and cries rang out around them from the other passengers, people pressing themselves to the windows trying to see what was going on. Instantly there came a screech of brakes and the train jolted as it pulled frantically to a halt. Inertia pressed Geoff back in his seat for a moment before he glanced at Ryan and the two of them jumped up, stumbling a little before making their way down the aisle into the next carriage.

Things seemed to move very fast after that.

He heard the metallic clank of a silenced gunshot behind him, followed by loud screams and commotion from the carriage as Ray shot down the one courier who'd been in first class. Then Ray, shouting – ordering everyone to move back to the end of the carriage. To get down and stay put.

Geoff tuned him mostly out. The train was still moving, but slowly now, faltering to a halt as he and Ryan crossed through into the next carriage.

His gaze fell on the three people Gavin had described. They had jerked into action and were already scrambling up. Red-hoodie had a gun in hand, and Geoff raised his own immediately.

“Drop it!” he shouted, voice ringing out through the carriage. People began to scream but Ryan was already shushing them, his own weapon swinging out across the commuters. “Hands in the fucking air, all three of you!”

Red-hoodie didn't drop his weapon – began to raise it instead, and quick as a flash Geoff shot him in the shoulder. He let out a loud cry, gun dropping to the floor with a clatter.

“All of you shut the fuck up and get in that carriage,” Ryan ordered, jerking his head towards first class. “Move it! Now!”

Geoff half expected someone to try and pull a hero move, monitoring the passengers from the corner of his eye as he kept his gun trained on the couriers, but they shuffled past quickly, nearly tripping in their haste to obey Ryan, filing neatly into the next carriage.

Ray ushered them along as well as he made his way into the cab with Ryan and Geoff. He pressed the button to close the door behind him before heading across to the door on the other side, shutting that as well and setting himself up beside it.

“Michael, where you at?” Geoff asked.

“Walking down the side of the train,” Michael replied. “People are freaking out, they don't know what's going on.”

“Anyone coming towards us?” Geoff asked.

“No, actually,” Michael replied, sounding a little confused.

“There are four others on the train,” Gavin piped up. “When they realise what's going on they'll head towards the second carriage.”

“I don't see them,” Michael said.

Geoff turned back to the couriers. Faux-hawk and Blondie had their hands in the air by now, Red-hoodie was leaning back against the wall, panting, hand clapped to his bleeding shoulder.

“Recognise me?” Geoff demanded.

Faux-hawk shook his head, glaring. “Should I?”

Geoff reached up and pulled off his glasses. “Geoff fucking Ramsey, bitch.” He relished the way they all paled a little. “Where's the gold? Hand me that bag.”

Blondie began to reach down to grab her handbag, but Geoff darted forward. Aimed the gun square at her forehead.

“Ah-ah! Kick it over.”

She scowled at him, but did so. He reached inside – grabbed the gun that was in there and tucked it into his belt before reaching for the black case that took up most of the space in the spacious bag. It was heavy – bigger than he'd expected and sealed with a combination lock.

“You,” he jerked his head towards Red-hoodie. “Unlock this.”

“Don't know the fucking combination, do I?” the man spat back. “We're just the delivery guys.”

“You lying to me?”

“No,” Red-hoodie replied. “Fuck you.”

It didn't matter. Locks could be broken. Geoff stuffed the gold in his backpack and started to turn back to them when a commotion in his ear had him freezing.

“Fuck,” Jack was hissing, “Fuck, fuck – Gavin, move-”

“What the hell's going on?” Geoff demanded – exchanging an alarmed glance with Ryan, then Ray. He motioned for Ray to take his place keeping an eye on the couriers and headed over to the door with Ryan, looking through.

Still none of the other couriers on the train had come to attack them. The passengers in the next carriage were down on the floor, having caught on to what was happening, practically hiding under their seats.

“Jack, what the fuck is happening?” Geoff demanded – but his boyfriend didn't reply. He could hear muffled, hurried shuffling movements and heavy breathing from both him and Gavin. They were obviously relocating from the cargo carriage but he wasn't sure why, or what had happened.

“Michael,” he began, unsure what was going on -

And then the train started to move.

The suddenness of the motion made Geoff stumble, catching himself against the door – he saw Ryan lose balance beside him as well, because the train literally _jerked_ into motion – _backwards_. Heading back in the opposite direction, away from the explosion, which _what the fuck_ -

“Fuck,” he heard Ray start behind him, followed by a startled, broken shout. Geoff turned just in time to see Faux-hawk take advantage of the distraction to snatch up Red-hoodie's gun from the floor. Grab Ray – off balance from the motion of the train – and haul him forward. Knock the weapon from his hand and spin him around in his grip and press the barrel of the gun to his temple.

“Ramsey,” Faux-hawk said, voice low, dangerous. He clicked the safety off.

Geoff's heart nearly stopped.

All he could see was Ray – Ray, caught in the grip of a man much larger than him, one hand up grasping the elbow hooked around his throat. Eyes wide and startled and-

And a freezing fear took hold of Geoff because _no_ and _Ray_ and it would be too easy, too easy for the man to pull the trigger then and there and _no not Ray_ -

Ryan cursed beside him. Raised his gun but stopped when Faux-hawk shoved the pistol harder against Ray's head, making him flinch.

“Your turn now, Ramsey,” he spat. “Hands in the fucking air.”

 

* * *

 

 

Gavin had been enjoying the time alone with Jack. After so long in the confined space of the flat with all the others, it was the closest thing to much-needed solitude that he could get. Jack seemed to have felt much the same way, and for the first hour of the journey they sat quietly, Gavin working away in silence.

He'd just identified the last of the couriers on the train and was leaning back, stretching his neck, which was developing a crick from the odd way he'd been sitting; hunched over on a pile of uncomfortable suitcases with his laptop balanced on his knees. His back cracked loudly and he pulled a face.

Jack laughed a bit. “Okay?”

“Bloody sore,” Gavin replied, and grinned a bit. “Used to it, though.”

Jack reached into his backpack and took out a thermos of tea they'd packed, handing it over to him. Gavin accepted it gratefully. He set his laptop on a pile of luggage in front of him and was so focused on trying to pour tea into the thermos cap without spilling it, the train rocking as it was, that he didn't notice Jack had come up behind him until the other was practically hanging over his shoulder.

“That all of them?” Jack asked, reaching up to point at the photos on the screen. He was close enough that Gavin felt his breath against his ear, and fought not to shiver.

“Yeah,” he replied – then cursed as the train rattled and hot tea spilled over the edge of the cap and onto his leg. He flinched, jerking – it wasn't scalding, but it was hot enough to startle him. Jack reached out and caught the thermos before it could fall.

“You okay?” he asked, grabbing a tissue from his pocket and dabbing at Gavin's leg.

Gavin nodded. “Shit- yep, I'm fine.”

He felt suddenly awkward again at how close Jack was, leaning over him. Hand mopping at Gavin's leg, high enough up his thigh that his breath hitched a little and he had to squeeze his eyes shut and force his mind away from where it definitely should not be going in the middle of a job.

He couldn't help it though. The last conversation he'd heard between Jack and Geoff rose back to the surface of his mind.

 _Something is going to happen here, between you and Jack. Eventually. There is no doubt about that_.

With that certainty in mind, he couldn't help but squirm away from the other's touch. Jack drew back, looking a little hurt, and Gavin quickly shot him a smile, not wanting to make him feel bad.

“I'm fine,” he assured him, and looked down at his damp jeans with a grimace. “I might look like I've just pissed myself, but it didn't burn me.”

“Good,” Jack said, and laughed a bit. But the awkwardness of the situation hung over them, and before he quite knew what he was doing, Gavin blurted out: “So when are you making a move on Michael and Ray?”

There was a very, very awkward pause in which Gavin realise what he had just said and _instantly regretted it_. His cheeks burned as he looked away, very glad that he had muted the mic of his earpiece a little while ago.

“What?” Jack asked, quietly.

Gavin couldn't look at him. “It's obvious,” he said. “They've been testing the waters all week. I know you've noticed. You _are_ going to make a move, right?”

“I...” Jack sat down opposite him and ran his hands over his face, and Gavin finally found the courage to dart a glance up at him. “I don't know, Gav.”

“You want to though, right?” Gavin asked, and Jack nodded.

“But you're not sure,” Gavin continued.

“It's a big change,” Jack said softly – the same words he'd told Geoff, but undercut with something else now. A vulnerable uncertainty that Gavin was a little surprised to be privy to. He bit his lip, looking down at his computer screen for a moment.

He might be uncertain about his own place in things – but he knew what he'd seen between the others.

“I watch people,” he said. Jack looked up at him, curious, and he continued. “It was part of my job for a long time before Burnie pulled me in. I watch people and see if they're having affairs. I... I've seen a lot of people doing things that didn't work out, or were just for – for sex, or a distraction, and all that. That's not how Michael and Ray look at you. That's not how you and Geoff look at them. It's not... it's not an impulsive thing. It's not a just- _because_ thing. You care about them. A lot. I can see it. And I can see they care about you too.” He swallowed, mouth suddenly dry, the words like sand on his tongue. He forced them out anyway. “I think you all might love each other.”

“Gav...”

Jack was looking at him now, something soft in his eyes. He seemed as though he wanted to say something – to ask about what Gavin himself was feeling, how he wanted to fit into all this – but he didn't, and Gavin let out a relieved breath.

They didn't have to talk about it. Not right now, at least. In the end Jack just nodded, accepting his words, and Gavin turned away. His heart was pounding and he wasn't quite sure why, and for some reason _Ryan_ popped into his mind.

Because it was doubtless, by now, that there was something between he and Gavin – but also with Ray, and Jack too. And by now they were all interlinked tightly enough, a tangle of too many different relationships. There was only one way it could end without any loose ends.

One, obvious way that Gavin was too nervous to even dwell on, because it would be hard enough, terrifying enough to trust his feelings for one person - _Ryan_ – let alone two – _Ray, Michael_ – let alone bloody five of them all at once.

Things were in motion. Things were going to change. But not right now, not if he could help it – not until he'd had time to think things through a little more.

So he was glad, that Jack didn't push, and they reverted back to their companionable silence, chatting occasionally about nothing important until Michael finally came on the comms and the heist was put in motion.

 

* * *

 

 

Gavin's heart was pounding as he heard the screams begin to ring out throughout the other carriages. Shouting – then a gunshot, echoing both through the train itself and through his earpiece from the others'. The sudden motion of the train stopping had sent luggage spilling through the cargo carriage and both he and Jack were ducked back against the wall.

Jack had one hand on his gun, but their job for now was to stay out of trouble and coordinate the others. Gavin's heart was still pounding, though he was in no real danger – it was fear for the others, he realised. Not something he'd ever really felt on a job, except vaguely for Dan, that one time – he swallowed it down, knowing they were capable enough to pull this off. Had a hundred times before, without him.

“Michael, where you at?” Geoff asked suddenly. Gavin snapped back to attention.

“Walking down the side of the train. People are freaking out, they don't know what's going on.”

“Anyone coming towards us?”

“No, actually.”

Gavin frowned. By all accounts, the four other couriers in the other carriages should have been making their way over to the second carriage to back up their friends by now. He said as much, and there was a thoughtful pause from Michael for a moment before he repeated, “I don't see them.”

Gavin glanced at Jack, who stared back at him.

 _Something's not right_.

If they weren't going to the second carriage, what the fuck were they doing?

He realised all too soon. Jack moved up to the window next to the door leading into the next carriage. Whatever he saw made him curse and stride over to grab Gavin's arm, shoving him towards the door.

“Fuck. Fuck, fuck – Gavin, move-”

“What's going on?” Gavin demanded. He glanced over his shoulder and swore as he saw the shadow of someone coming up towards their carriage. “Shit, they're coming this way? Why?”

One of the luggage racks had slipped in front of the door when the train stopped and as Gavin watched the door began to shudder as whoever was on the other side began ramming against it, trying to force it open.

“They shouldn't be coming this way,” Gavin said, still very confused, then yelped as Jack grabbed him around the waist and practically hauled him over the spilled suitcases and duffle bags towards the cargo cab door.

“Well, they are, so let's get the fuck out of here.” They couldn't face off against four people. Jack yanked the door open and the two of them spilled out.

Gavin landed on his hands and knees, grazing his hands against the gravel surrounding the tracks. The sun was too bright after the darkness of the carriage, his eyes stinging from too long spent staring at a computer screen in dim lighting. He squinted, picking himself up and dusting dirt and grit from his palms.

The train had stopped in a vast expanse of dry grassland. The sky stretched overhead, dazzling and bright – it was a warm, clear day for Autumn, and it was oddly quiet out here, the faint trill of cicadas the only sound in the remote rural area. The lingering smell of smoke hung in the air from the explosion.

“What the fuck is going on?” a voice called out, and they turned to see Michael jogging towards them from down the side of the train.

Before either of them could reply there was a great and terrible screeching noise and they all turned to stare as the train began to move back along the tracks. For a moment they stood stunned, staring – _this was not part of the bloody plan at all, what the hell is happening_ – but it was picking up speed at an alarming rate, and Michael jolted into action.

“Fuck – _fuck_ , get back on!”

Jumping onto a moving train was not something that Gavin had planned on doing today. It was also, contrary to what movies would have you believe, much, much harder than it looked, especially on a modern train with sleek panelled walls and sliding doors. They found themselves sprinting frantically alongside the train, losing ground every second as it accelerated. There was a small landing between two of the middle carriages and with a final push Michael managed to leap on. He turned, hanging off the rail, extending his hand to the others. Jack was closer and he pulled him on first; Gavin struggled not to get left behind, forcing himself to sprint, reaching for Michael's outstretched hand.

“Come on, Gav,” Michael yelled – pushing himself to go faster, he lunged forward and Michael's grip closed around his wrist, hauling him bodily forward. He stumbled, falling against the other's chest. Michael's back hit the carriage wall and for a moment they both swayed dizzily, the train speeding along too-fast under them. Gavin spluttered a mouthful of hair away – the wind was whipping at them something harsh – before realising he was standing too close to Michael. Had him pressed back against the wall, hands up against his chest, Michael still holding onto his wrist.

He stepped back quickly, his earlier nervousness rising up again – but Michael just grinned at him, cheekily, and Jack huffed out a laugh as well where he was standing beside them.

“That was some Indiana Jones shit right there,” Michael said, running a hand through his windswept curls. “Fuuuck.”

“Why the hell is the train moving?” Jack demanded, then paused, his hand rising to his ear. “Geoff? Geoff? Fuck, are you guys hearing anything?”

It was then that Gavin realised that there was total radio silence going on; he wasn't sure when it had started, adrenaline packed as the last few minutes had been.

“They've lost their earpieces somehow,” he said worriedly. “Taken them out or what.” He frowned. “Those other four – they must've gone through the cargo carriage to the locomotive.” There was a cab at either end of the train, so it could travel in two directions. “Switched the controls to that end and started it up again.”

“They're trying to stop us escaping with the gold,” Michael realised, and frowned. “So where the fuck have Geoff and the others gone?”

“I don't know,” Jack replied, “But I don't like this silence.” He didn't sound panicked, not yet, but Gavin caught his undercurrent of concern.

There was a moment of very awkward silence; Jack seemed to be waiting for Michael to do something, but Michael, too, was waiting for Jack to give an order – in the end it was Gavin who spoke up.

“We need to stop the train,” he said. “Whatever's happening with the others, that's our number one priority.”

Michael nodded. “Agreed. It'll take both of us to take out four of them. Once it's stopped we head back to the second carriage and see what's going on.”

He wrenched open the door leading in from the landing and they stumbled through. It was a relief to get in out of the wind and the dizzying rush of the scenery speeding past.

There was one car of passengers before the cargo carriage and when Michael opened the door all of them gasped in horror. They were already crouched under their seats – seemingly under the direction of one of the railway attendants – and at the sight of two men with guns the room went dead silent save for muffled crying from one cluster of people in the corner.

“Stay where you are,” Michael ordered, gruffly, “And no one's gotta get hurt.” He made his way down the aisle, people shuffling out of his way, avoiding eye contact.

Gavin felt very awkward trailing after him. He didn't normally make much contact with civilians during heists – often he wasn't in the field, and when he was it was usually still in a car or at a distance – so having people stare at him in terror was rather new.

They reached the door to the cargo carriage and Jack stopped Gavin with a hand to his arm.

“Wait here,” he began, but Gavin shook his head.

“No,” he said, glancing behind him at the carriage full of terrified travellers. They were placid for now but he didn't know what might happen if Jack and Michael left him on his own; he was unarmed, after all, and didn't look particularly threatening.

Jack stared at him for a moment, then nodded slowly.

“Stay behind us,” he ordered.

Gavin nodded mutely. His heart was pounding but he felt oddly calm, despite the danger. There was something very reassuring about the presence of the other two. He crept after them, picking their way across an obstacle course of fallen bags and suitcases until they reached the door to the locomotive car.

Michael tested the door gently, found it locked, and then motioned for the other two to get back before he shot the lock and began to kick it in. It opened with a crash and there was an instant hail of gunfire. All of them dived back into the cargo carriage, but the four couriers strode out, guns blazing.

Michael grabbed Gavin and yanked him back behind a luggage rack. He ducked down, covering his head, flinching as a bullet sparked against the metal of the trolley beside him.

Jack had been separated from them; was hiding against the wall on the other side of the room. Gavin peered out between the racks of suitcases and his eyes widened as he realised that most of the couriers were focused on Jack's hiding place. He couldn't see the other man, just the gun-wielding figures bearing down on his corner, and for a moment the terrible thought struck him that he might be injured or worse-

Before he could panic, one of the men fell, and Michael rose from behind his cover. He shot out the light panel in the ceiling above the men and the bulb exploded, wires and sparks fizzing down on them. Taking advantage of the distraction, he quickly gunned down the rest, and silence fell in the carriage aside from the rattle of the train and the occasional sparking pop of the light.

“Jack,” Michael said, panic lacing his voice. He nearly tripped over the bags on the floor in his haste to scramble across the room, Gavin hot on his heels.

Jack popped up from behind a fallen luggage rack. Michael dropped to his knees in front of him, grasping his face in both hands.

“Are you okay?” he demanded. There was something raw and vulnerable in his tone and suddenly Gavin held back, fearing he was interrupting something.

“I'm fine," Jack replied, softly – but they stared at each other frantically for a moment, as though drinking in the life in each other's eyes, the rise and fall of breath. Jack's hands rose to grip Michael's wrists, holding him gently.

“I'm fine,” he repeated – and the danger had not been all that great, but Michael was still breathing too heavily and it was only as he looked at Jack that he calmed down. Gave a small smile and rose to his feet.

“Let's stop this fucking train then,” he said.

Stopping the train, as it turned out, was easy. There was a clearly and conveniently labelled brake that they pulled before turning to head back towards the second carriage.

Gavin trailed a little way behind the others. There was something thoughtful in Jack's eyes – he kept glancing at Michael quickly, almost agitatedly, as though he was trying to decide on something or work something out in his mind. And as they headed back through the cargo carriage Gavin didn't miss the way that Michael's hand caught Jack's, briefly – the way their fingers linked and squeezed for a few moments before they pulled apart again as they moved to go back through the narrow doorway.

 

* * *

 

 

Geoff thought his heart might explode.

He couldn't take his eyes off the barrel of the gun where it was pushed against Ray's temple, hard enough to leave a mark. His own weapon was clenched tight in his hand, still pointed unwaveringly at Blondie. He thought his hands might shake if he didn't have a lifetime of experience in staying calm in situations such as these. He still felt queasy.

Faux-hawk reached up with his free hand and yanked Ray's earpiece out, stomping it underfoot. He returned the gun to his head instantly and glared up at Geoff and Ray. “Take yours out too,” he ordered. “Then put your God damn hands up.”

Geoff caught Ray's eyes. The other man stared at him with a level gaze, eyes wide and nervous – but not panicked. Something about that reassured Geoff, settled his stomach and slowed his heart as he reminded himself to _stay calm, think logically_.

He took his earpiece out, if only to buy time, but immediately put his gun back up.

Beside him, Ryan did the same, but had not lowered his weapon either – in fact, as Geoff watched, he shifted his aim so it was pointed at Faux-hawk and Ray.

For a heart-stopping moment Geoff thought Ryan might be about to go all Keanu Reeves, _shoot the hostage_ on them and shoot Ray – but he didn't; his gun was carefully trained at Faux-hawk's head. Geoff wondered idly if he trusted Ryan enough to make that shot – if the other man was quick and careful enough to be able to take Faux-hawk out before he could hurt Ray and without getting the other man caught in the blast.

Too risky.

“I mean it,” Faux-hawk repeated, and dragged Ray back a few paces. “Drop your weapons right the fuck now or I'll blow his brains out. I'm not messing around here.”

“Kill him and you lose your leverage,” Geoff spat. “Let him go and maybe I'll fucking let you live.”

Faux-hawk's gaze flickered. It was true – having just one hostage was fairly worthless if once you killed them you were left with nothing – but after a moment his gaze hardened and he lowered the gun from Ray's head to drag it across his stomach instead, nudging up under his shirt – Ray squeezed his eyes shut, shuddering.

“I can sure as fuck hurt him though,” Faux-hawk said – a cold hand gripped Geoff's heart - “Out here in the middle of nowhere? How fast do you think you can get him to a hospital?”

The image of it assaulted Geoff suddenly – blood and tears and _pain_ – the look on Michael's face if Ray bled out in front of them. Before he even knew what he was doing he began to lower his gun, helpless – when suddenly Ryan reached out beside him. Snatched the bag of gold from his grasp and in one swift, fluid movement, brought the butt of his gun around to smash the window beside him.

Blondie gasped as he swung the bag to dangle it out the window, half-reaching forward-

It hit Geoff, then, that for these people the delivery was their entire job. That gold was the most important thing on the train to them.

“I'll drop it right now,” Ryan warned. “The speed we're going at? It'll be lost in the countryside in seconds. How fast do you reckon you can get back to it?”

“Give me that gold or I'll shoot him,” Faux-hawk said, but Geoff could see how his eyes had widened.

Ryan glared back at him – the gun in his other hand still pointed at the man's head. “Let him go or I'll drop it.”

“You won't. You want that gold too,” Faux-hawk said – and they were at a stalemate now, a terrible stalemate.

There was a moment of horrible frozen silence in which they all glared at each other, no one wavering.

Then gunshots began to ring out from the other end of the train.

Geoff saw the couriers' eyes flicker back in the direction of the cargo carriage. Whatever shit was going down seemed to spur them into action, because things happened very quickly over the next few minutes.

Faux-hawk rammed the gun against Ray's stomach hard enough for him to double over, winded. Geoff half-started forward but stopped when the man looked up at him with a glare.

“I'll give you five fucking seconds to hand that gold over or I swear to God I will shoot this kid in the stomach.”

Geoff froze. For a horrible, horrible moment he had no idea what to do. His mind went white-blank with panic – with fear for Ray – for once he could not think of a way out of this. He began to lower his gun, but Ryan didn't-

Turned to him, “Ryan, give it to him!”

And Blondie sneered at him, then, seeing his fear - “You're weak, Ramsey,” she spat, “Weaker than I thought-”

“One,” said Faux-hawk, his lips drawing into a thin grimace.

Ryan threw the bag of gold at him.

Whipped it hard enough that it literally hit him in the face and his hands rose involuntarily to catch it. Ray took the chance, ducking down out of his grip and scrambling free, and before Geoff could even blink Ryan was raising his gun to shoot Faux-hawk in the stomach, then Blondie and Red-hoodie in quick succession. All three of them crumpled to the ground at the exact moment that the train screeched to a sudden and abrupt halt, making the three of them fall against the wall, losing balance.

The moment he was upright again Geoff stumbled over to Ray and grabbed him, frantically – couldn't quite seem to make his mind or tongue work to form words. All he could do was run his hands over his arms, pull him close into a tight hug.

“You okay?” he managed to get out. “Fuck, are you okay?”

“Geoff. Geoff, I'm fine.” Ray sounded impassive as usual but there was a tremor in his hands as he brought his arms up around Geoff, hugging him back.

Geoff pushed him back a little. Grasped his face in his hands and stared at him. He was still reeling from all the _what-ifs_ and _could-have-beens_ – from all the ways that situation could have gone so horribly downhill. From how close Ray had come to just being – gone. Dead or horribly wounded, snatched away from them forever.

And suddenly – suddenly he couldn't take the waiting anymore.

Maybe it was impulsive, maybe it was rushing into things – maybe if they wanted to take things slowly, carefully, they should wait to defeat Edgar first. Maybe the couriers thought he was weak for caring so much.

He didn't care.

All he wanted – _needed_ – right now was the comfort he sought from Jack after every near-death experience of theirs. The reassurance that they were both still live and breathing – a frantic grasping of every precious second they still had together. No more waiting – waiting was dangerous because things could be taken from you too fast.

“Geoff?” Ray started, quietly – a little concerned, almost.

Geoff leaned in slowly and, when Ray didn't pull away, pressed their lips together.

For a moment Ray was still, unresponsive in surprise – Geoff kissed him, gently, hands still loosely grasping his cheeks, and after a moment he kissed back. Softly, tentatively – a little unsure, a little shy, and Geoff let it remain like that. Slow and cautious and testing the water still.

It had been a long, long time since he kissed anyone other than Jack, and he felt a tingling sort of shudder run down his spine, a pleasant nervous thrill building up in his stomach – it felt different. Different but _right_ , and gaining confidence, he shifted his hand around to Ray's hair, pressing forward, deepening the kiss-

The sound of the door being flung open had them jerking apart from one another.

“Geoff,” Jack said, and Geoff turned to him, one hand coming up to his lips. Jack had caught the tail end of what was happening and for a moment his eyes widened in shock, and Geoff felt suddenly, startlingly afraid -

_Did I take it too fast? Did I ruin things?_

But after a moment Jack's face softened, and behind him Michael – also watching – raised his eyebrows but was beginning to smile, slowly, something excited building up in his expression as well.

“What the hell happened here?” Michael asked – frowning as he noticed the gold and the earpieces strewn over the floor, then the way Geoff had a hold of Ray – possessively, _protectively_.

“Shit went wrong,” Geoff explained. He let go of Ray but the other man didn't move away. Just sort of stared at him, looking almost dazed. He held the other's gaze as he continued, “The train starting to move threw us off. But we've got the gold. You take out the rest of them?”

“Yeah,” Jack replied.

Ryan cleared his throat. “Let's get the fuck out of here then,” he said, reaching forward to scoop the bag of gold up from Faux-hawk's body. “Someone call Kdin in.”

Geoff only realised then that his hands were trembling. From adrenaline or nerves, he couldn't tell. After a second, Ray reached out and lace their fingers together, squeezing slightly – Geoff looked up and met his gaze. Ray gave him a small smile, and he returned it.

“So,” Jack said, popping up over his shoulder.

Geoff turned to look at him. Again he wondered if maybe Jack wasn't okay with his having made the decision to move things along so suddenly – if he wanted to take it slower – but Jack's eyes were sparkling with something like anticipation, and he reached over Geoff to cup Ray's cheek for a moment before dropping his hand and turning to open the door of the train car.

The chopper was waiting just over the nearest hill for them, and they disembarked from the train – relieved to be out of there and into the fresh air. Ray had fallen back with Michael as they walked, hands linked together – Jack and Geoff side by side a little way behind them. It wasn't long before the other two started darting glances back at them, though, and Geoff couldn't help but break down into half-hysterical snickers.

Jack glanced over at him. “Just couldn't wait, huh?”

“I'm sorry,” he said, and sobered up a little. “That asshole had a gun to his head, I... it sort of hit me then. I... I love you, Jack, but. I think I might love them too, a little bit.”

“Just a little bit?” Jack teased, and Geoff elbowed him.

“You know what I mean.”

“I do,” Jack admitted. “And I... I spoke to Gav before. I'm kind of glad you went ahead with it, to be honest.”

Geoff was glad too – having kissed Ray, having made a move, it was like that terrible tension between them was gone, the burden to decide whether or not to act. Like ripping off a bandaid or finalising a tough decision, it was out of his hands now. It had been done. They'd sort out the details later on.

Michael glanced over his shoulder again and Geoff met his eyes with a smile – the other smiled back, something almost mischievous in it. Geoff's heart picked up again, but this time purely from excitement, because it held the promise of exploring this more later on – _soon_ – physically as well as verbally.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Even [more](http://gumbaro.tumblr.com/post/102229211906/hed-never-been-able-to-fool-himself-into) [sweet](http://gumbaro.tumblr.com/post/102160921976/hooray-for-five-second-doodles-i-was-too-tired-to) [fanart](http://gumbaro.tumblr.com/post/102295443101/i-was-gonna-draw-the-scene-where-ryan-teaches-gav) by gumbaro. Thank you so so much <3


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! A chapter of working out feelings~

The chopper was fucking noisy. Geoff was saying something, but without his earpiece Ray couldn't hear a word that was coming out of his mouth.

He settled back against his seat and Michael glanced over at him before shifting, wrapping his arm around Ray's shoulders and pulling him in close to his side. Ray let himself relax against the other man, exhaustion seeping in as the adrenaline faded away from his body. He closed his eyes briefly.

Much as they got into dangerous situations, there was nothing quite like actually having a gun held to your head. He hadn't panicked, but he'd been scared. More scared than he realised he probably would have been a couple of months ago – because the fear that seized him had been the thought of _Michael_ – what Michael would do without him. The pain he'd feel at having Ray torn away so soon after they just got together.

But Geoff... looking at Geoff had settled him, because the thought had struck him, then, that even if something happened to him – Geoff and Jack would take care of Michael. He wouldn't be alone. That had been reassuring, even in those terrifying moments when the possibility was high that he'd be killed then and there.

_And Geoff_ ...

He raised his hand to touch his lips, glancing across at the other man again only to accidentally make eye contact with him. Suddenly he felt self conscious and wrenched his gaze away quickly, a flush already rising to his cheeks.

_So this is a thing now._

For all that something had been building up between them, the kiss had been unexpected. Suddenly he realised how Michael must have felt when he'd suddenly made a move – God, it felt like ages ago. Sometimes he forgot just how recently the two of them had gotten together.

But this had been different. He couldn't deny that for weeks he and Michael had been tentatively reaching out – trying to see how they could fit in around Geoff and Jack. Whether it could work. And the more Ray had thought about it the more _something_ had started to grow – a vague sort of want, a vague sort of need. But he hadn't been sure – they hadn't really, properly talked about it yet, come to a definite decision, even as it seemed to become more and more certain that _something_ was going to happen-

But then Geoff had kissed him and it had... it had been good. More than good, it had jolted him like an electric shock and he'd been unsure but he'd wanted _more-_

Except he couldn't be certain. Couldn't know that it hadn't just been the fear, the adrenaline building up from _nearly fucking dying_ two seconds before.

After he'd kissed Michael, that first time, he'd felt _right_ , like he'd made a choice and it was too late to go back on it now, but he was glad he'd done it anyway.

He didn't feel like that now, was still a little uncertain, and... and they really, _really_ needed to talk about it.

He didn't realise they were landing until his ears popped and his stomach dropped a little at the sudden descent. Glancing out the window, he was a little surprised to find they were still far out in the countryside, landing in an abandoned stretch of scrub a ways out from the city. The chopper jolted under them as they landed and he grimaced at the sudden silence as the engine cut out. Every little noise seemed much louder now that he could actually hear it.

“What's going on?” he asked.

In the pilot's seat Kdin twisted around and pointed out the window. Ray followed his gaze and frowned as he noticed the familiar flickering light of a police helicopter arcing across the sky.

“Cops are crawling all over the place,” Kdin spoke up. “Someone on the train must've called them in. We'll sit it out for a bit, just let it die down a little before we get back in the air.”

Ray nodded – it made sense.

Ryan was already unbuckling his safety belt and climbing out of the helicopter, whether to stretch his legs or keep watch Ray wasn't sure. It wasn't long until Geoff and Jack followed, then Gavin, who shot a glance at Michael and Ray as though he wasn't sure if he should be taking some hint to leave them alone.

Ray let out a long exhale of breath and rubbed his hands over his face. Michael squeezed his shoulder.

“You okay?” he asked, quietly, and Ray nodded.

“Yeah.” He glanced up, suddenly acutely aware that Kdin was still in the chopper with them, but the man was poring over something – his phone or the flight manual, Ray couldn't really see from this angle – before turning to meet Michael's worried eyes. “Yeah, I'm alright.”

“You nearly died.” He didn't sound angry, just sort of tired. “It's still kinda hard.”

“What's hard?”

“This. Being in danger, you being in danger now that we're...” he gestured slightly awkwardly between them. “You know. Knowing there's more to lose.”

“There's gonna be four times more to lose once we-” he cut himself off, suddenly unsure, but it was too late. Michael's face slackened in surprise before a small smile twitched at his lips.

“You've decided, then,” he said. “You want to...?”

“I don't know.” Ray ducked his head again, ran his hands through his hair. “Geoff kissed me and I... I'm still not sure. I think so. I think I want this. But I keep wondering if I might be wrong. Once we do this we can't really go back, can we?”

Michael was silent a moment, chewing his lip.

“Were you sure when you kissed me?” he asked finally, quietly.

Ray snorted. “God no.”

“So isn't this sort of the same thing?” And Michael looked at him then, almost shyly. “Taking a chance on someone? Well, two someones?”

Ray looked at him for a long moment. Saw the hesitant sort of hopefulness in the other's eyes. Michael had smiled, he remembered, when Geoff kissed him.

“You want this,” he realised. “You've already made up your mind.”

“I don't want anything that you don't want too,” Michael said quickly. “I mean I – I do, but. But I don't want to do anything until you're sure as well.”

“At least one of us knows what he's feeling,” Ray grumbled, but somehow – somehow that did make him feel a bit better. To know that Michael at least was confident – that Michael thought that this could work.

Kdin cleared his throat a little and both of their heads snapped up to look at him. He'd twisted in his seat, was watching them with raised eyebrows.

Michael scowled. The intimate topic of their conversation had him getting angry defensively. “What, asshole?”

“Nothing,” Kdin replied easily. “I just wanted to say, it's nice to see you guys again.”

Ray smiled tiredly at him. They'd met him before, on a couple of the occasions they'd worked with Geoff, and he quite liked the guy, though he didn't know him too well.

“Heard Geoff's bringing you two in after all this,” Kdin continued, and Michael nodded, his frown easing up a little as he seemed to realise that Kdin didn't mean any harm or offence.

“That's about right,” he replied.

“Cool,” Kdin said, and raised his eyebrows. He glanced out the chopper window to where the others were milling around outside. Gavin was saying something to Geoff, gesturing expansively, and Geoff was laughing, head thrown back. Ray couldn't help but smile a little at the sight.

“He seems to really like you guys,” Kdin said – but there was something quiet in his voice, something thoughtful, and Ray couldn't help but flush a little. It was one thing to see that Geoff and Jack liked them, another entirely to have someone outside the six of them acknowledge it, let alone one of Geoff's crew. It made it seem more real somehow.

Kdin noticed his reaction and gave him a small smile before turning away again, and Ray sighed and leaned back into his seat, turning to watch the others out the window once more.

_ What's my problem?  _ He wondered.  _What's holding me back? I like Geoff. I like Jack. This should feel_ right.

His gaze fell on Ryan, who was standing a little way from the others, arms folded, looking up to track the police chopper as it flew off into the distance. As he watched, Gavin walked up next to him. Said something that made Ryan look down at him. He had put his mask back on when they left the train, and Ray couldn't help but be a little disappointed. He kicked himself for it, though – it would be stupid to expect Ryan to take it off permanently, after all. Still, it had been nice while it lasted – and Ray liked that he'd trusted them enough to take it off. Felt oddly closer to him now that he knew what he looked like.

It hit him, then. It wasn't that the thought of being with Geoff and Jack didn't feel right, per se. The thought of the  _four_ of them was what felt wrong. It felt like it was missing something, and he knew exactly what that something was. But Geoff and Jack in and of themselves – that was okay. He  _wanted_ that.

“You're right,” he murmured, and Michael turned to look at him, eyebrows rising.

“I'm sure I am, but about what?”

“About this being the same as when I kissed you. Taking a chance on someone. I think I want to take that chance.”

“Okay,” was all Michael said, but Ray could see his lips twitching as he tried to repress a grin. He leaned in, kissing Ray gently. There was something comfortable about it, something familiar. A vague thought tugged at the back of Ray's mind. _I want to know what kissing Jack feels like_.

“We'll talk about this when we get back,” Michael whispered as he pulled away – Kdin was climbing out of the helicopter now to call for the others, and Ray just nodded.

 

 

* * *

 

 

They ended up having to stop a couple more times, ultimately taking a longer, winding route back into the city. By the time they finally arrived it was evening, the setting sun streaking the sky red and gold, and as they headed out towards the road from where they'd landed the chopper, Geoff glanced at his phone to check the time and cursed.

“Heyman will have gone home by now,” he said. “We'll have to bring him the gold tomorrow.”

Michael shrugged. “Back to the flat then?” he started, but Geoff hesitated. He glanced at Jack, then the two of them, then over at Ryan and Gavin, and Ray pulled a face as he realised that with Gavin's place being so small they'd have no privacy to talk over, well, everything they needed to talk over.

Something small and nervous squirmed in his gut –  _okay, so we're doing this tonight then –_ but he pushed it away. Better to sort things out now, after all, than let them sit awkwardly.

Michael caught on quickly. “Um. Did you guys want to come back to my and Ray's apartment?”

“That might be better,” Jack said quietly.

Ryan let out a displeased noise and they all turned to look at him.

“You're going to split us up just so you can have a little heart to heart?” he demanded. “Edgar knows where you two live.”

“Without Shadles he's probably not watching us any more,” Michael pointed out.

Ryan shook his head. “He might still have men monitoring some places in Achievement City. Why would you risk it just to talk about....” he trailed off, glancing between them, and Ray looked away. Being on the receiving end of Ryan's disapproval wasn't pleasant, and he didn't like the harsh tone in the other man's voice – it felt like regression, somehow, like he was slipping back to how he'd been when they first met. Cold and closed off and critical of the rest of them caring about each other.

Gavin touched Ryan's arm and Ryan jerked around to look at him. Ray figured his shoulders softened a little when he looked down at the other man.

“It's not Edgar I'd be worried about,” Gavin said, quietly. “It's the couriers. They have eyes in this city too, and they'll have worked out by now that the delivery never arrived. We should split up the gold between us. They take half to Michael and Ray's place and we take the rest back to mine. Edgar's been quiet all week; if he was watching Michael and Ray he'd have gotten them the first time they went back to their place.”

There was a moment of frozen silence before Ryan finally nodded.

“Okay,” he said. “Fine.”

Actually breaking into the box to get the gold ended up taking a little longer than they expected; the lock was pretty heavy duty and they ended up all crammed in the car in tense silence while Michael struggled with it. When it finally popped open they were all worn out with waiting and Ray had perfected Angry Birds on his phone.

“Let's see that shit then,” Geoff said, leaning forward impatiently as Michael began unwrapping the gold from the black cloth that was covering it. Finally he pulled it free and they all sort of paused.

Ray had never had a particular affinity for pretty material objects; he had little taste for art or jewellery or treasure. He'd seen people die for gold and diamonds and had always scoffed at it. That being said, this was one of the most impressive things he'd ever laid eyes on.

The four cubes were only about 10cm across, but they were beautiful – Ray thought that all the gold he had seen previously must have been impure or tarnished in some way because these were dazzlingly shiny, even in the dim light of the car as dusk fell.

Beside him Michael let out a little breath.

“Well that's fucking awesome,” he said, and they all huffed out half-laughs. Even Ryan sounded impressed.

“Jesus, you can see why people went mental about this stuff back in the old days,” Gavin said. He reached out and took one of the cubes in hand, hefting it in his palm. “It's heavy.”

“People still go mental about it now,” Ray pointed out, then ducked back as Gavin started tossing the cube up and down. “Hey, be careful with that!”

“Jesus Christ, Gavin, don't just chuck it about,” Geoff chided.

“Does anyone know how to juggle?” Gavin asked, throwing it from hand to hand.

“No one's juggling the gold,” Jack said, rolling his eyes.

Gavin tossed it higher then yelped as he failed to catch it. They all cringed as it fell to the car floor with a heavy thud and rolled under the driver's seat.

“For fuck's sake,” Michael said, throwing up his hands, as Gavin mumbled a sheepish apology and dived forward to retrieve it. As soon as he emerged, holding it up – there was an old Snickers wrapper stuck to it – Geoff snatched it and wiped it off, tossing it back into the box.

“Remind me never to hand you a grenade,” he said, and they all made rather alarmed noises at the mere thought.

“So we'll take two each?” Ryan asked, and Geoff nodded. He wrapped two of the gold cubes in the cloth and stuffed them in his backpack before shutting the others into the box and handing it to Ryan.

“We'll take the other car,” he said. “You two alright to get back on your own?”

“Of course,” Ryan said, and Geoff nodded.

“We'll see you tomorrow then,” he said, and got out of the car, the others moving to follow quickly. An odd frittering tension had started up between them as they all seemed to realise that the four of them were about to be left alone together for the first time in a while – that things really were about to move along – and Ray suddenly found he had butterflies in his stomach. Fucking _butterflies_.

Michael reached out and squeezed his hand; he squeezed back, trying to calm down a little. It wasn't until they were in their own car, driving back to his and Michael's place in silence – pausing for a McDonald's run along the way – that he realised he had been in such a rush he'd forgotten to so much as say goodbye to Gavin. 

The thought of the other man made something like guilt rise up in him. Michael hadn't brought him up since he'd suggested they start considering Jack and Geoff instead, but he still occupied Ray's thoughts. He didn't want to say anything, though, didn't want to make things more complicated than they already were.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Just like the first time they'd been back, it felt strange to return to their apartment, and even stranger to have Jack and Geoff there. Ray felt abruptly and suddenly vulnerable, wondering what they'd think of the space. He vaguely wondered if Ryan and Gavin had felt like this when they had the others over to stay – Ryan for sure. He didn't know about Gav.

“I'll get you guys a drink,” Michael said, right off the bat, and Jack and Geoff nodded, sitting down on the couch. They glanced about but didn't make to poke around, which Ray was suddenly grateful for. He sat down in the armchair nearby, fingers drumming nervously against his knee, and jumped when Geoff suddenly spoke to him.

“Jesus, Ray, you're tense as dicks.”

“Sorry,” Ray replied automatically, but then couldn't quite think of anything else to say.

Jack smiled at him – soft and kind, and reached out. He grabbed Ray's hand, squeezing gently. The contact was reassuring and Ray felt himself relax a little as Jack's thumb rubbed over his knuckles.

_It's fine,_ he realised.  _It's just Jack and Geoff. They don't expect anything, not really. Talk. Sort this out. This shouldn't be something scary, it should be exciting_ .

And he was. Excited, that was, though it was still undercut by some level of uncertainty. He was glad when Michael returned with the drinks, dispelling the slightly awkward silence that had fallen over them.

For a moment they sat, just drinking, but even then it was good to have a quiet moment. To unwind after what had been a very long and rather stressful day. Ray could see the others loosening up under the alcohol and not for the first time wondered idly what it might be like if he drank too.

“So,” Michael said finally, breaking the silence.

“So,” Geoff replied, and they all glanced at each other rather awkwardly, everyone waiting for someone else to speak first. But no one did, and they all just sort of... sat there, staring at each other, until Jack suddenly and abruptly broke down laughing.

The tension was dispelled; they all started laughing as well. Somewhat hysterically, perhaps, but Geoff's guffaws were contagious and soon Ray found himself snickering so hard he could barely breathe, just at the sheer ridiculousness of the situation.

“Oh God,” Jack choked out, “Just look at us. Jesus Christ.”

Michael downed the rest of his drink. He wiped his mouth, then his eyes, grinning hard. “Yeah. God. Let's, uh, let's just get to it. So you kissed Ray,” he said, turning to Geoff. He gestured between the four of them. “So is this, like, a thing now?”

“Do you want it to be a thing?” Geoff replied, the laughter fading from his voice a little as he looked between them rather more seriously.

Michael turned to Ray then, and he licked his lips, the earlier nervousness rising up again as he realised he was being called on to make a choice.

“I... I think so,” he replied, hesitantly.

Perhaps it was the uncertainty in his voice that made the others fall silent then. He looked away, feeling suddenly almost guilty for his indecision, but Michael reached out and pressed his wrist reassuringly.

After a second Geoff shifted forward and reached out to take Ray's other hand. Ray looked up at him and found something soft and earnest in his eyes. He remembered how terrified Geoff had looked when the courier was holding a gun to his head. His mouth felt suddenly dry.

“We were going to wait,” Geoff said, quietly. “Until after Edgar, after all of this. Give it more time, take it slowly. But that guy...” he took a deep breath, shaking his head a little. “When that guy held a gun to your head... God, Ray, I couldn't wait any longer. Not after that. If you'd died today... I don't know what I'd have done, but. I couldn't have just gotten over it. Not any more than I could just get over it if if Jack died. That's how I knew that I...”

It was too soon. Too soon for those three words. It had been fine with Michael; they'd known each other so long. But here and now, it was not the place for them, not yet.

Geoff swallowed. “Anyway,” he said then. “I want to try this.  _We_ want to try this,” he added, and Jack nodded.

Michael still didn't say anything, and Ray realised suddenly that he was waiting for Ray to speak first. That he didn't want to agree as well and leave him as the odd one out, under pressure to say 'yes' to avoid being the one who ruined it.

He swallowed. Looked at Geoff and Jack sitting there in their apartment, focused on the warm touch of Geoff's hand against his. And things did settle in his mind, then, the way he'd been waiting for them to. He might be nervous about it, but he  _did_ want to try.  _Wanted_ this to work out, even if he was scared it mightn't.

“Me too,” he said, quietly at first – but then, looking around at them all, more resolutely. “I want to try this too. I do.”

Getting the words out in the open, a definite, was a relief. He felt like a weight had dropped from his shoulders, and now – just like after he'd kissed Michael – as though he'd made the right choice.

Geoff and Jack turned to Michael then, and he nodded as well.

“Okay then,” Geoff said, and then grinned stupidly around at them all. Ray couldn't help smiling back – and a giddy excitement overtook him then, washing away most of the remaining nervousness.

“So how's this going to work?” Michael asked. He glanced at Ray. “We don't, uh... this is kinda really fucking new to us.”

“I'm not going to lie,” Jack said, glancing at Geoff. “It's going to be... strange, at first.” He turned to Geoff and something like regret passed over his face. “We've been together just the two of us for so many years. Changing that up will be... a big, big switch.”

Ray bit his lip as he watched Geoff's face soften too. He realised suddenly just how quickly they had moved into this – sure, things had been building up between them for weeks now, but the time span between Geoff kissing him for the first time – an impulsive decision – and the four of them actually getting together was literally a matter of hours.

“But we'll take things slowly,” Jack continued. “We'll feel it out. See how it works. And I _want_ this to work,” he said, turning his intent gaze to them. “I really, really want this to work.”

“Me too,” Michael said softly. And he rose then, bending forward to kiss Jack softly.

Ray watched them, gaze almost hungry. And it was strange, there was no doubt about it, seeing Michael kiss another guy right in front of him. But something about it felt right – the way Jack closed his eyes and Michael's hands rose to cup his cheeks. He glanced across and saw Geoff watching them too, smiling a little – and he realised, then, that the strangeness was only from the novelty of it. Otherwise it felt oddly comfortable, oddly familiar, because this sort of thing – little touches and smiles – they'd been doing that a while now, the four of them. It felt less like starting something new and more like taking something existing to the next level.

Michael pulled back from Jack and they both paused a moment, staring at each other, something passing between them that Ray couldn't quite catch. Then Michael turned to him, looking almost worried, like he thought Ray might react badly to actually seeing this relationship in action.

But Ray just smiled at him, and got up. Caught Michael's hands in his and leaned in to kiss him as well.

He tensed a little when he felt someone come up behind him and warm hands rested gently on his hips, but after a second he relaxed into the touch. Turned to see Jack, smiling softly at him. Their kiss was soft, quick, little more than a peck on the lips, but afterwards Jack leaned forward, their foreheads resting together and that – that was nice. Intimate and familiar without pushing too far yet, and it settled things definitely in Ray. That  _I like this_ and  _this is good_ and  _this can work_ .

“It's really late,” Jack spoke up. They stepped apart but he kept one arm around Ray. “We should get some sleep. See where this takes us tomorrow.”

It felt oddly anticlimactic to come to such a massive decision and then not do anything about it, but Ray nodded. Jack was right, it was late, and they still had a lot of work to do over the next few days.

For a moment he paused, unsure what was going to happen with sleeping arrangements, but Geoff was already moving towards the door to keep watch, and Jack to the couch.

Michael grabbed his hand, tugging him towards his room, and he glanced over his shoulder as they began to leave.

“Goodnight,” he started, almost hesitantly – but the other two just smiled back at him warmly.

“Goodnight, Ray,” Jack said, and Geoff waved.

Ray cracked a small smile and let Michael pull him along. They shut the door behind them, dressing and getting into bed quickly. The vague memory of what they'd done in this bed last time they were here crossed Ray's mind, but he pushed it away. They were too tired, and it still felt a bit too strange with Jack and Geoff right outside.

“How the fuck do four people have sex?” he whispered, before he could quite stop himself, and Michael burst out laughing, burying his face in his pillow to muffle the noise.

“God, Ray,” he choked out finally. “Mind goes straight there, eh?”

“Hey, I can't help _wondering_. I know fuck all about this, remember?” he asked, embarrassed but laughing it off himself. “Well? You got an answer?”

“I don't know. I guess we'll figure it out when we come to it.” He flopped over onto his back and his hand fell onto the mattress near Ray's. He reached out and closed the distance, lacing their fingers together.

“You are happy with this, right?” Michael asked hesitantly after a moment.

Ray thought about it – properly thought about it. Knew he couldn't just give a quick, off-the-cuff answer.

“Yes,” he replied finally, genuinely. And it was true. He felt a deep, pervading content that this had been sorted out. That they were all actually together now.

But suddenly – suddenly he remembered that they still hadn't talked about Gavin and Ryan. And he was happy – he  _was –_ but that was a loose end that he really, really needed to tie up.

He loved Gavin. His feelings for Ryan were strong. That wasn't about to go away. And he knew Michael wanted to give it a shot with Gavin too, but all the others... he thought they did too, but he wasn't quite certain.

He was fine now, as it was, but only for the moment. For things to properly, truly settle, they needed all the pieces.

But for now – for now, things were fine. Things were  _good_ . He rolled onto his side, curled into Michael – was oddly glad that the other two were still outside. He didn't feel like he'd lost anything with Michael, was reassured that their connection hadn't lessened somehow by adding more people – and fell asleep eventually with a smile on his face and a lurking excitement to see what would happen tomorrow.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The apartment seemed terribly quiet without all the others there.

It had been one thing to stay there all six of them, but coming back home with only Gavin seemed suddenly oddly intimate to Ryan. He shook off the feeling, turning away to lock the door behind him as Gavin carried the gold in to stash away somewhere safe until morning.

_You're alone now,_ something whispered at the back of his mind.  _Anything could happen-_

_Jesus Christ, you're not a fucking teenager_ . He kicked himself, but he couldn't deny that the blatant tension the other four had been carrying around was starting to affect him as well. He paused, resting his forehead against the door for a moment, closing his eyes.

The last few days had been... interesting, watching the other four dance around each other, obviously working up to something but never quite making an actual move.

When Faux-hawk had put that gun to Ray's head Ryan couldn't deny that he'd been just as terrified as Geoff. He'd hid it well, of course – kept his calm, because that was what he did, but God if the thought of losing the younger man hadn't hit him hard. Had made him feel physically sick because he'd resisted caring about them every step of the way but now that he'd finally let himself fall – now, now he realised just how much it would  _hurt_ if he lost one of them.

And afterwards...

Afterwards Geoff had kissed him, and Ryan had stood there like a complete fucking idiot just  _watching_ . Part of him had longed to reach out as well, if only to pull Ray into an embrace, to know he was still there and breathing and alive.

But he hadn't. He hadn't, and now the four of them were off talking things through, or whatever, and perhaps his bitterness before hadn't just been from the risk they were taking in splitting up the group.

Loneliness had been a part of his life for all too long, even if he loathed to admit it. It had been one thing for Ray and Michael to end up together – they had known each other a long time and things had obviously been set in motion long before Ryan had shown up. The same with Jack and Geoff.

But for those two groups to get together – Ryan didn't feel  _left out_ , per say, so much as he suddenly wondered whether he'd misread the feelings he'd thought were brewing between himself and Jack, and Ray, and even Michael and Geoff too – they were stupid little worms of doubts, especially considering he had never so much as indicated interest properly to any of them before. Stupid and irrational but he couldn't help them anyway.

The sound of a throat being cleared made him jump, and he spun around to see Gavin standing there watching him. Suddenly embarrassed at being caught in such a rare moment of vulnerability, he straightened up.

_You still have Gavin_ , he realised, suddenly.  _No matter what happens with the other four. There's still Gavin_ .

“It's not actually as late as I thought it was,” Gavin said. “It got dark really quickly.”

“Winter's coming,” Ryan replied, glancing down at the clock on his phone. He was right, though, they still had a bit of time left. “You going to get some work done?”

Gavin pulled a face. “I've been working all day,” he said, moving over to the couch and throwing himself down with a huff. “Kinda don't want to do any more right now.”

“We could continue your self defence lessons,” Ryan suggested, and Gavin pulled another face, even more contorted than the last.

Ryan rolled his eyes. He knew Gavin had been a bit startled, last time, by how hard he'd pushed him – and to be honest he'd surprised himself with how intense he'd gotten about it. But he couldn't help it – the moment they'd actually started the lesson he'd suddenly realised just how important it was. Ryan had worked with a variety of specialists and consultants before and while most of them didn't have professional field training, they also weren't as likely to break down into a panic attack if something went wrong. It had become all too clear since they'd begun working together just how vulnerable Gavin was.

And when they'd started – when they'd started, it had brought back far too many memories of the days he'd spent building up his old team, whether it had been improving the combat skills of the weaker members or advising them in heists and investments and picking jobs. The burning sting of failure constant at the back of his throat. It was tough love more than anything else – he could deal with Gavin getting mad at him for pushing him if it meant the next time he was in danger he knew enough to survive.

“My goal isn't to hurt you, Gav,” he said then – needed him to understand that – “It's to make sure you don't get killed.”

“I know,” Gavin replied, “I get it.” He sighed, ran his hands over his face, then nodded. “Okay. But can we do something that doesn't end up with me bleeding this time?”

He was grinning, so Ryan knew he was kidding, and rolled his eyes again.

“Sure,” he said.

“Promise?” Gavin asked, with another shit-eating grin. By this point Ryan's eyes were in danger of rolling right out of his head.

“I promise.”

“Great.” He heaved himself up from the couch. “Thanks Ryan. Sweet, gentle Ryan.”

“Don't push it, Free,” Ryan laughed.

He kept his word. They were both tired from the long day, anyway, so this was more to take advantage of having the flat to themselves and kill some time productively than anything else. They didn't even bother moving the furniture this time and he kept the lesson to a brief hour, mostly just showing Gavin what to do if someone grabbed his hair and correcting the way he threw punches. He was pleased with that progress, at least, and they didn't end up pissed off at each other this time, which was a plus.

By the time they were done it was properly dark outside. They went off to take turns showering and it was only now that they weren't doing anything that Ryan again realised how strange it felt to be alone in the flat with Gavin. He'd gotten more comfortable here than he did in any of the other temporary places he stayed in on jobs, despite the lack of space and privacy, and tried not to think of why exactly that might be.

“Are you keeping watch tonight?” Gavin asked, when Ryan emerged from the bathroom. He hadn't put his mask back on after showering, since it was just the two of them there, and he caught Gavin giving a small smile when he noticed before looking away. He was sitting at the table eating toast and Ryan moved to join him.

“Yeah,” he replied. “Better safe than sorry.”

He didn't think he could sleep that night, anyway. Not after what had happened to Ray.

They ate in silence for a few moments before Gavin cleared his throat slightly awkwardly.

“Wonder what the others are up to,” he mused.

“Big gay four-way,” Ryan replied immediately, and Gavin choked on a mouthful of bread.

“Jesus, Ryan,” he said, laughing, and Ryan smiled a bit.

“What? We aren't going to pretend that's not exactly what's happening right now, are we?”

“Fair enough,” Gavin replied.

And it was true – they were the odd ones out now, and there was no point pretending they hadn't noticed exactly what was going on with the others. Ryan looked at Gavin, eyes tracking over his face – his beard starting to grow back in a little now, the way the bags under his eyes had lessened slightly over the last week as he caught up on sleep – wondered what, exactly, he thought of it all. Whether he, too, felt that odd tug of loneliness that Ryan had.

Abruptly, Gavin pushed his chair back and got up.

“Want a drink?” he asked.

Ryan raised his eyebrows, but nodded, watching as Gavin moved over to the cabinet and pulled out two glasses and a bottle of liquor. He brought them back to the table and Ryan caught his wrist when he started pouring the second glass.

“You can't take alcohol with those sleeping pills,” he said sternly, and Gavin shook his head.

“I'll sit up with you,” he said. “Don't really feel like sleeping tonight.”

Ryan tilted his head. “No?”

Gavin shook his head. “No,” he repeated. “I mean... they've been working, so thanks for that, but they make me tired during the day.”

Ryan nodded – it was the reason he didn't take them all too often himself, that and he didn't want to become reliant. He let go of Gavin and watched him carefully as he leaned back in his chair and took a swig, but he was drinking slowly and didn't seem to be aiming to get smashed, so Ryan let it be.

So they drank, and talked, even as it grew later into the night, keeping the topics of conversation quite light. At some point they ended up out on the balcony, looking out at the non-existent view. There was a chill in the night air. It felt odd to feel it on his exposed face.

“Do you miss England?” Ryan asked eventually, after a lull in the conversation. They'd been speaking about the places they'd travelled before and he'd suddenly remembered it had been a few years since he been back to his home state of Georgia.

Gavin chewed his lip thoughtfully.

“I miss my family,” he replied. “I miss Dan. I miss feeling safe. But I know going back won't magically fix all my problems.”

“You're making progress,” Ryan said quietly, glancing over at him, and Gavin scoffed out a little laugh.

“That's what Dan said,” he muttered. “Maybe I am. Maybe I should be happy with that. I think it's helping, the lessons – learning to fight. Learning to take care of myself. But I don't think I'll ever be the same as I was before.”

“Time heals a lot of things,” Ryan said – he wasn't sure where the words were coming from, if it was the alcohol making him speak from so deep inside. Or if it was Gavin. “Others we learn to just live with.”

Gavin looked over at him. His eyes were very bright, a little glassy from the drink. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Are you making progress too?” Gavin asked – a little tentatively, but when Ryan didn't react he pushed on, braver now. “Does it... does it hurt less?”

Ryan knew exactly what he was asking about, and once – once he would have clammed up. Would have moved the conversation away because even just _thinking_ about it hurt. But now – now the thought that he had a new team somehow filled a little of the void. Made it easier to look back on.

“I think so,” he admitted. “I think it does.”

“That's good.” Gavin drained the rest of his drink and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the balcony rail as he looked down at the dirty courtyard below.

Ryan finished his own glass and moved to put his mask back on, out of habit more than anything else, when suddenly Gavin's hand caught his wrist.

“No,” he said, “Keep it off.”

Ryan paused. Gavin was staring at him intently and he couldn't quite work out what he was thinking. His voice was a little too loud, a little too uninhibited.

“Are you drunk?” he asked, sternly.

Gavin shook his head. “No,” he replied. At Ryan's disbelieving look, he scowled. “'m not! A bit tipsy maybe but I'm not, like, plastered.”

He shifted his grip a little, fingers stroking gently along Ryan's wrist, and Ryan looked down at his hand.

The mood had changed, now. Suddenly, alone out here with Gavin, it felt like something was going to happen. Ryan felt his heart starting to pick up. Didn't quite know what to think.

Gavin shifted clumsily towards him. He hadn't let his arm go.

“What are you doing?” Ryan asked, carefully. Didn't pull away.

“I don't know,” Gavin admitted. His other hand came to rest on Ryan's knee and he started to lean in.

Ryan remained where he was, letting him get closer. His heart was pounding now, because there was something different about this. Their other two kisses had been frantic, desperate – undercut with adrenaline and anger. This... this was soft, and quiet, and unhurried. They were alone and relaxed and-

And-

And as Gavin got closer he could smell the alcohol on the other's breath. As he leaned in, lips hovering inches from Ryan's own, he realised that he wasn't making eye contact. That his gaze was dropped down and away. That he was _shaking_.

He grabbed Gavin's shoulders and pushed him firmly away, back down into his chair. Gavin yelped in surprise, the tension between them shattered.

“What are you doing?” Gavin demanded.

“What are _you_ doing?” Ryan shot back.

Gavin's jaw clenched. He wrapped his arms around himself and looked away. He was shaking harder now, wouldn't meet Ryan's eyes.

“Gavin?” He softened his tone a little. Was _confused_ , more than anything else, unsure what exactly had just happened between them.

“Sorry.” There was something tight and petulant in Gavin's voice. Like he was embarrassed. “I thought... I thought you wanted to.”

Ryan let go of him. Stepped back and ran his hands over his face. Gavin looked like he wanted to crawl into a hole and die, and it was obvious that his courage had been fuelled by the drink. That being rejected, pushed away, had hit hard for some reason. Shattered his confidence.

“I didn't not-want to,” he said. Gavin looked up at that, eyes wide and confused.

“I didn't not-want to,” he repeated, “But _you_ seemed to. I'm not going to kiss you, Gavin – I'm not going to do anything with you if you don't look like you want it.”

“I did want it,” Gavin began, but it was soft and confused and like he was trying to convince himself.

Ryan raised an eyebrow. “Did you?” he asked. And suddenly, suddenly it seemed to encompass not just the immediate, but everything. The possibility of making this something more, not just a one-time thing, and God this had escalated quickly because suddenly Ryan was confronted with having to make that decision himself. “What do you want from me, Gavin?”

“ _I don't know_.” It burst out of him frantically and suddenly Gavin was on his feet, fists clenched by his sides. “I don't bloody know, okay?! I was... I thought... I want _something_. From you or, or maybe from Ray or maybe from Geoff and I just... there's too much. Things are changing. I don't know how I feel.”

“And kissing me is going to help you sort it out?” Ryan asked.

Gavin threw his hands up. “I don't know! Maybe! Sitting around thinking about it sure as hell isn't getting me anywhere.”

Ryan opened his mouth again, but Gavin was rounding on him suddenly.

“It's not just me you know,” he said.

Ryan stared at him, taken aback. “What?”

“It's not just _me_ who's caught up in this,” Gavin repeated. “What do _you_ want? And not just from me. From the others. Because Ray, Michael, Jack – they want you too, you know. I can see it. They're gonna get together the four of them and then... then what? What's going to happen to the two of us?”

Ryan stared at him. He had no idea what to say.

Gavin turned away then. Ran his hands through his hair frantically until it was standing all at ends. He laughed, a little bitterly.

“ _Something's_ going to happen,” he said. “We're gonna have to decide.”

Ryan stared at him in silence. His heart was still pounding and something like panic had seized him, because he'd known. He'd _known_ that eventually the other four would reach out to him, but hearing Gavin say it out loud made it suddenly solid and real. And perhaps it was Gavin's own panicked tone that had him suddenly worried.

He felt the same – he wanted _something_ , just wasn't quite ready to accept it yet.

After a moment Gavin let out a huff of breath, muttered something Ryan didn't quite catch, and turned, heading back inside.

Ryan let him go. He stayed standing where he was, out in the cold, and after a moment he took up his mask from where it had been lying under his chair and pulled it back on. He felt a little safer then, like it was some form of security blanket. Less open and vulnerable.

He closed his eyes, forcing himself to regulate and slow his breathing.

 _Fuck_ , he thought. _Fuck, fuck, fuck_.

He'd pushed Gavin away, but only because the other man had been so unsure. If it wasn't for that... he'd've let him. Let him kiss him and possibly take things further.

And he wouldn't have wanted it to be a one-night thing.

But the other four... even now, they were sorting out their problems. More likely than not they'd come back tomorrow and they'd all be together and they'd be trying to pull Gavin in next, Ryan knew. _And then him._

God, the thought of it scared him. Not because he didn't know what he wanted but because he knew that getting that close to them... everything would be so much worse if things _did_ go wrong with Edgar – as they very well might – he'd be opening himself up to so much more hurt. And maybe he was a coward at heart, maybe he'd been dragged kicking and screaming into letting them in as much as they were now, but suddenly he just wanted more time. Wanted to put it off, and then put it off some more. To not have to think about it.

Things were moving too fast.

He wasn't sure how long he stood out there. The temperature dropped steadily and eventually it was the cold that forced him back inside. Gavin had turned out most of the lights and for all that he'd said he wanted to stay up, Ryan found him on the couch, asleep – it seemed exhaustion had taken its toll, even without the pills.

He was sleeping restlessly but he wasn't thrashing about the way he had a few other times Ryan had seen him, so he let him be. Fetched a blanket from the bedroom and tucked it in around him before moving into the kitchen and, with a sigh, pouring himself another drink.

 

* * *

 

 

Morning dawned grey and drizzly, miserable weather to match Ryan's miserable mood. He was tired and faintly hungover, and Gavin had been quiet all morning, obviously feeling awkward after what had happened. They'd get over it, Ryan knew – the same way they'd gotten over what had happened last time, or else something would happen to force things into motion, but for now... for now, he felt like crap, and the depressing weather really wasn't helping.

They met up with the other four a few streets away from Heyman's office, but they'd gotten there too early and his building wasn't open yet, closed and locked up. Again Ryan wondered vaguely if he'd pulled a runner on them, but he decided to give him the benefit of the doubt for now.

And the others... the others were happy as fuck.

Whatever had happened between them last night, they seemed to have sorted things out. All of them were smiling and relaxed, shooting little glances at each other as though they were all in on some shared secret. It hardly needed to be announced that they'd decided to merge their two relationships.

Gavin was watching them with an odd sort of look on his face that Ryan couldn't quite work out.

“Congratulations,” he said eventually, as they stood about in the street waiting.

Geoff glanced over at him and grinned. “Thanks buddy.”

“So did you all bang?” Gavin asked immediately, and they all spluttered indignantly. Michael swiped at him and Gavin ducked away, grinning – at least one of them could get some humour out of this. “What? A valid question!”

“Did you and _Ryan_ fuck last night?” Michael shot back – except the two of them stiffened a little at that, and suddenly things were _awkward_.

Jack and Geoff exchanged a wary sort of glance, and Ryan forced himself to laugh.

“No,” he said, but it came out more tersely than he'd anticipated. “We didn't.”

“Okay then,” Geoff said. He glanced at his watch impatiently. “Fine day for Heyman to fucking sleep in-”

And then Edgar attacked.

God, they should have been wary of it by now. Should have realised never to let their guard down – but he'd been quiet all week, and with Shadles gone he shouldn't have known where they were – but it seemed he still had men patrolling Achievement City, because suddenly a shot rang out, shattering the window of the car inches from Ryan's arm, and black cars were rolling in from either end of the lane they were standing around in.

“Fuck!” Ryan hissed, ducking, already going instinctively for his gun.

More shots peppered the road around them and they all dived for cover. Ryan rolled back behind the car he'd been closest too and peered up over the hood.

The pig was emerging from one of the cars. A dozen mercenaries flanked him. As he watched the masked man pulled something from his belt and tossed it towards them, and Ryan's stomach dropped as he realised it was a grenade.

“Move, move, move!” He grabbed whoever was closest to him – didn't stop to see who – and dragged them up, already pelting for the nearest building. Ducking as gunshots continued to ring out around him.

There was a small crevice between two nearby stores and they dived in, pressing themselves flat against the wall as an explosion rang out behind them – a deafening boom followed by a wave of searing heat that hit Ryan even despite the shelter. It was far bigger than what should have come from a typical hand grenade and when he peered out around the wall he realised that the car had blown up and was on fire, a smoking burnt out shell.

He rested his head back against the wall, panting, and looked about – it was Michael he'd grabbed. The other man was crouched next to him, checking the clip of his gun. Geoff was standing on his other side; had run for the same bit of cover.

Ryan poked his head out from behind the wall again, looking for the other three, but couldn't catch sight of them before he was forced to duck back as someone shot at him.

“What's the plan?” Michael demanded, turning to Geoff.

“Um, fucking kill all of them?" Geoff asked. His eyes were wide but burning with anger – Edgar was on the offensive, Ryan realised, properly coming after them for the first time. “Michael, what have you got?”

“Just a gun,” Michael replied, waving his pistol – they hadn't had time to grab anything from the cars in all the havoc.

“Do either of you have the gold?” Geoff asked suddenly – they both shook their heads, though honestly the gold was the last thing on Ryan's mind right now.

The gunfire had died down a little and Ryan cautiously peered out again. Half of the mercenaries, including the pig, had taken off down the street. They were presumably chasing the others. The rest of them were reloading their weapons, and he knew it wouldn't be long before they opened fire on their hiding spot again.

He turned back to the others. The crevice they were in was a narrow passageway between two of the buildings, but now that he looked closer, it didn't finish in a dead end.

“Let's head down here,” he said, pointing. “See where we wind up. Hopefully we're at the end of the block and we can loop back around and take them from behind.”

Geoff nodded, approving, and they did just that – moving quickly and quietly down the alley until, indeed, they emerged on a street on the other side of the block of buildings.

Looping around took them past a main road, but it was oddly devoid of cars. Ryan cursed.

“This place is so public that someone's probably heard the gunshots and called the police already,” he said. In any other situation he'd've taken the chance to run and let the cops deal with the mess for him, but they needed to find the others. “We'd better move quickly.”

“Look.” Geoff pointed at a footbridge that crossed over over the main road. “Michael, get up there and cover us.”

Michael nodded. He started to walk, then hesitated. Reached out and squeezed Geoff's arm briefly before jogging towards the stairs.

Ryan glanced between them but made no comment. He and Geoff looped back around to the lane.

Edgar's mercenaries were indeed firing on the passageway they'd been in before, but seemed to be beginning to realise that they'd left. He and Geoff ducked back behind the mercs' car, left parked in the middle of the road.

' _Ready_?' Geoff mouthed, and Ryan nodded.

They popped up from behind their cover and opened fire on the mercenaries. There were six of them and a couple fell instantly, caught by surprise, but the rest sought cover of their own.

This was the sort of fight Ryan hated the most; a stalemate that consisted of shooting at people popping in and out of cover, hoping to hit and not be hit. Like whack-a-mole except the moles whacked back. He fired until his clip was empty, but both their position and the enemy's was too secure and neither of them ended up hitting each other.

He ducked back behind the car to reload and turned to Geoff, who'd been similarly unlucky.

“We need to get closer,” he said. “Actually, we need _them_ to get closer. Draw them near the bridge so Michael can take them out.”

“Get in the car and drive it,” Geoff suggested, and Ryan nodded.

“Cover me,” he said.

Geoff stood up and laid down covering fire, an onslaught of bullets that had the mercs hunkering down, giving time for Ryan to slip around the side of the car and get in the driver's seat. The keys were thankfully still in the ignition and it didn't take him long to swing the car around and drive it back towards the bridge, Geoff walking alongside.

This was a much better position; they had the bridge on one side for cover and to get at them the mercs would have to file in from the road.

Unfortunately he underestimated just how quickly they would move; he was halfway out of the car when a bullet shattered the window in front of his face and he barely ducked his head out of the way, losing his balance and half-falling out of the car.

“Ryan!” he heard Geoff yell.

He grazed his hands against the tarmac as he scrambled back, caught off guard as the mercs began to flood towards him, shooting. One of them dropped under a bullet from Geoff, but caught out on the road, Ryan was exposed and vulnerable as he tried to get back behind the cover of the car.

“ _Michael_!” Geoff hollered – without their earpieces they were hard pressed to communicate – but the other man seemed to have heard him because moments later gunfire rained down from the bridge above.

A strong arm hooked around Ryan's chest and dragged him backwards; he stumbled, letting Geoff pull him along until they both collapsed behind the car.

“You okay?” Geoff demanded, seizing him by the shoulders.

Ryan nodded, suddenly breathless as he realised Geoff had literally run out into the firing zone to grab him. The other man was staring at him with something startlingly intense in his eyes. It was the same way he'd looked at Ray back on the train and suddenly, suddenly he was too close. Suddenly Ryan felt an odd sense of expectation, like he was waiting for him to do  _something_ – drop their foreheads together.  _Kiss him_ .

But he didn't. He just squeezed Ryan's shoulders before pulling back with a slightly awkward cough. Ryan turned his head away, kicking himself for suddenly feeling almost disappointed.

_What did you think he'd do? You have the mask on right now anyway._

The shots died down a little, and in the silence that followed Ryan heard the faint wail of sirens. He caught his breath before getting up from the ground, peeling off his gloves to pick at the scraped skin of his palms. All the mercenaries lay dead on the ground.

“You guys okay?” Michael called out, jogging down from the footbridge.

Geoff shot him a thumbs up as he skidded to a halt next to them.

“Nice shooting,” Ryan said.

Michael smiled. He was looking at Geoff, though, who nodded approvingly as well before reaching out to pat his arm briefly – an odd, affectionate sort of gesture that abruptly reminded Ryan,  _hey, these two are together now –_ he was so used to it being Jack-and-Geoff and Michael-and-Ray that suddenly this seemed peculiar to him.

But he realised that the gesture wasn't entirely unfamiliar. It was just underpinned now with something else – some deeper closeness.

And he couldn't resent them for it, not when it seemed to come so naturally to them. He might be terrified at how fast things were moving along – how he was being swept up in it too – but suddenly he felt oddly happy for the others. For managing to be well balanced enough to work things out between them, despite what was going on right now – for working so seamlessly together regardless of the sudden and intense changes occurring in their relationships.

“Let's go find the others before the cops get all up our asses,” Michael said – and Geoff nodded, already heading off down the street.

Ryan moved off after them, but his mind was still stuck on what had just happened.

_Geoff saved you too._

Perhaps he had more reason than the others to fear losing the people close to him. He knew the pain that came with it. But just then – just then Geoff had been scared for him. Had risked his life to get him out of danger. Had known that fear for Ray only days before.

Yet he'd still gone ahead and put his heart in the firing line by pulling Ray and Michael in closer to him. Would presumably do the same with Gavin, and Ryan now too.

For all that he'd told himself over and over again, _caring is weakness_ – looking at Geoff now he realised, with a crawling sort of shame, _you are a braver man than I._

 

* * *

 

 

“There!” Ray shouted.

This was a ridiculously hilly area and up ahead he could see a railing around the edge of the road where the other side dropped into a low cliff over another pathway down below. He ran for it and vaulted over, jumping down – the impact jarred his knees, made his feet ache through the soles of his shoes, but he landed fine.

Moments later Gavin dropped down next to him, falling to his hands and knees.

“You okay?” Ray asked, turning to him – Gavin nodded, getting up. His hands were scraped bloody and he grimaced, picking out bits of gravel.

“Oh!” Ray said. “You ripped your jeans! Or were they already like that?”

“They were already like that,” Gavin replied. “Stylishly tattered, y'know?”

“Gotcha,” Ray said, unable to help his grin.

Jack clambered down next to them and Ray reached out to steady him as he landed.

The three of them had run from the explosion the second they saw the grenade. The blast had covered them a little, giving them time to get away, but Ray had no doubt they were being pursued. Still, the cover of the small cliff behind them gave him the chance to catch his breath.

“Everyone alright?” Jack asked, looking over at them both. His gaze caught Ray's and he gave him a small smile.

They didn't seem able to stop doing that this morning. Smiling at each other. Stupid little grins whenever they so much as made eye contact.

They couldn't help it. It had been a good morning – you know, before the guys trying to kill them showed up. Having slept on their decision, everyone had been a little calmer upon waking up, and having breakfast in the flat together they'd realised that things didn't have to change too much.

They were still all friends. Asshole friends who poked fun at each other and everyone around them, but their dynamic – their dynamic didn't have to shift. They didn't have to make things awkward. As Ray had realised the night before, they were just moving along something that was already in place, and their agreement to take things slowly meant he didn't have to worry about feeling too out of his depth.

But hanging out with the two older man in their flat – that had been nice. Comfortable. Something had felt very right about it, about waking up to find them there. About the way Jack had kissed him good morning with a light peck on the forehead, Geoff planting one on his cheek, like it was the most natural thing in the world to them. And perhaps his own response had been a little clumsier, a little more surprised, but they'd laughed it off – it hadn't been awkward – they were figuring things out together and it had been _fun_ , more than anything else.

Everything had been great until they got back to Ryan and Gavin. Ray wasn't sure what had happened the night before but both of them seemed awkward, stilted, and it didn't take a genius to realise that they were now acutely aware of their status as the two odd ones out.

_It doesn't have to be that way,_ Ray thought, not for the first time.

“I've got the gold!” Gavin spoke up, and both of them turned to him.

“You stopped to grab it?” Jack demanded, a little incredulously, and Gavin shrugged.

“I – yeah? It was right on the car next to me.” He fished the bag out from under his jacket and swung it about. “Better than getting it blown up.”

His tone was blasé but Ray could see he was scared. He couldn't hear anyone coming after them yet, but for all they knew they were about to be snuck up on.

“We have to move,” he said. “Circle back around and find the others.”

Jack nodded. He checked his gun before moving to take the lead, then paused and turned to Gavin, grabbing his arm.

“Stay behind us,” he ordered. “If things get bad you run. Okay?”

Gavin nodded, mutely, and Ray glanced at Jack. There was a fierce protectiveness in his eyes and his hand was tight, reassuring on Gavin's arm.

His doubts earlier as to whether Geoff and Jack felt the same way as he and Michael were instantly assuaged; Jack was looking at Gavin the same way he looked at Geoff when he was in danger. The same way he looked at Ray now.

“Good,” Jack said. He let Gavin go and they set off, along the footpath, a slow but steady trail uphill back around to the upper level of the road.

It wasn't long before they spotted the mercenaries. The pig was nowhere to be seen but half a dozen gunmen were stalking the road, heading right for them. Unfortunately there was nowhere around to hide so they opened fire, opting for the element of surprise. Ray shoved Gavin back towards the nearest building, gesturing frantically for him to press himself against the wall in some semblance of cover.

It was not an ideal firefight and things might have turned ugly if the mercenaries hadn't suddenly started dropping from behind as Michael, Geoff and Ryan emerged over the hill behind them. Between them all six men and women were quickly felled and the other three jogged towards them.

“There you are!” Geoff called out. He pulled to a halt in front of them. “You ran all the way down here?”

“Worked out for us,” Jack replied. He nodded at Ryan. Smiled at Michael. There was a lot of nodding and smiling between them all lately, Ray thought wryly.

“Sounds like the popo are about to come down on us,” he commented, catching the faint ring of sirens.

“Well, our car's blown to shit but we can walk to Heyman and hide out there for a bit,” Geoff replied, then paused. “Please tell me someone grabbed the fucking gold.”

“I did!” Gavin piped up, coming over from where he'd been ducked back against the wall. He waved the bag proudly then handed it over to Geoff. As he started to pull away Geoff grabbed his wrist. Pulled his hand forward and frowned, inspecting the scrapes and cuts where he'd hurt himself jumping down over the incline. His thumb ran gently over Gavin's palm and Ray saw the other man shiver before pulling away.

No one spoke, and they turned to walk off after that, but Ray caught Michael's eye and saw his boyfriend raise his eyebrows.

That reassured something in Ray. To know that it wasn't just him, that the others, too, recognised that something was still missing.

 

* * *

 

 

“More sirens,” Michael muttered.

They were sitting in Heyman's office. Once again the man would only communicate with them via Kara, and she'd brought the gold into the back room, leaving them to sit with nothing to look at but the view outside the door and the giant potted plant.

Police cars had been moving around outside for the last hour or so, obviously cleaning up the mess left on the streets.

“Did you guys kill the pig?” Jack asked, suddenly, and Geoff shook his head.

“No. Didn't catch sight of him. He must've left early on in the fight. Damn it. That would've been convenient, to take out Edgar's last big man today.” He sighed. “Guess it can't be helped now.”

The door opened and all of them looked up as Kara emerged. She was smiling, which Ray took to be a good sign, and they crowded forward against the desk as she came to stand before them.

“Joel's really happy you got that gold back!” she said. “He's gonna recall all the contracts he can.”

Geoff nodded. “How long will it take?”

“A few days,” Kara replied. “And he can't promise that every mercenary will listen. Most of them will, because we manage their assignments, contract them to different people – but Edgar could buy out some of them privately, if he offers them a better deal. This won't solve all your problems. But it will cut his supply off significantly.”

Geoff nodded again. “Exactly what we wanted.”

“I suggest you lay low for a bit while we work on it,” Kara said. She glanced at the door as another siren wailed past and pulled a face. “Your little display out there? Not exactly subtle.”

“Got it.” Geoff started to turn to leave, then turned back.

“Remember what I said,” he said, voice low. “Heyman doesn't keep up his end of the bargain and I will come back for the both of you.”

“He's a man of his word,” Kara replied, a little grumpily, and turned back to her desk.

They filed out of the office. Geoff had called Kdin earlier to come and pick them up, seeing as they'd lost one car and the police were crawling all over where the other one was. Now they stood out behind the store, waiting.

“Well that's one problem off our hands!” Michael declared – Ray glanced over at him and grinned a little.

Suddenly taking Edgar down seemed far more in reach. No more random ambushes, no more being outnumbered by dozens of mercenaries. They could finish this and get on with their lives – lives which suddenly to Ray seemed new and exciting. He'd been looking forward to moving on with Michael, but now with Jack and Geoff in the equation the future looked even more novel.

“Where are we going now?” Gavin piped up.

Geoff blinked at him. “Back to your place...?”

Gavin shook his head. “I don't think we can hide out there for much longer,” he said. “I live too close to Burnie. It won't be long before Edgar starts poking around there and realises where we are. Now that we've killed so many of his higher ups he's gonna be coming after us hard, just like he did today. We need to move somewhere new while Joel deals with these mercs.”

“He probably knows about our place by now too,” Ray murmured.

Geoff thought hard for a minute.

“Do you have any other hideouts?” he asked Ryan, who shook his head.

“Not in the city – then again, it might be best to get out of here for a bit.”

“I agree,” Geoff mused. He stroked his moustache thoughtfully. “I'm trying to think of places that Edgar won't have already found out about with Shadles' help,” he said.

They all waited in silence, looking at him expectantly.

Eventually his eyes lit up and a slow grin spread over his face.

“Got it,” he said, and began to snigger uncontrollably. “Ooh, God, it's perfect. This is not even on Edgar's radar.”

 

* * *

 

 

“This isn't one of our hideouts,” Jack said, confused, as they finally arrived.

They'd been driving around all day – first back to Gavin's and then Michael and Ray's to pick up their belongings. Then they'd had to grab another car before finally setting out. Ray had no idea where they were going, but they'd headed hours out of the city before finally hitting the suburban outskirts of a small country town with more trailer parks than Ray had ever seen in one place before.

The house was quite simple, a one-storey redbrick with a large garage and a square front garden of dying grass. Jack was staring at it as though he'd never seen it before in his life, which apparently he hadn't.

“Indeed it isn't,” Geoff said, very cheerfully. “It belongs to my little Swedish friend.”

Jack groaned, thudding his head back against his seat. “You're kidding. We're leeching off Felix now?”

“I found out about this one a while ago,” Geoff snickered. “He won't miss it; I don't think he's used it in ages.”

“I'm pretty sure this counts as squatting,” Ray said, and Geoff waved a hand dismissively.

“Just one more crime to add to the extensive list!” He parked the car and they clambered out.

Evening had come quickly as the days shortened into winter, and Ray shivered a little in the cool air. They might be on the fringes of a town, but it was as silent out here as it had been in that first remote country house.

Jack turned to him.

“Cold?” he asked, and then, when Ray shrugged, put an arm around him and pulled him against his side. Ray was startled for a minute, a little unused to this close contact with him – but quickly relaxed, leaning into Jack's side with a smile.

Michael, Ryan and Gavin pulled up moments later in the second car, and it wasn't long before Michael had picked the lock and they were transferring their belongings into the house.

This place was much smaller than Geoff's country house had been. There were only three bedrooms, one of them far smaller than the others, so no one claimed anything in particular. It would be easier to rotate depending on who was going to be on watch. The garage area was attached to the house at the back – had a laundry built into it. They'd kept their cars in the drive rather than inside, but there were plenty of power points so Gavin ended up putting his computer setup in there.

“We've moved around so fucking much recently,” Michael groaned, coming to slump down beside Ray on the couch once they'd finally brought everything in.

Ray nodded, tiredly.

“At least we're somewhere with more than one or two rooms now,” he pointed out, and Michael glanced at him sidelong. A slow smile spread across his lips.

“Makes it a lot easier to do certain things without other people overhearing,” he pointed out.

Ray smirked back at him. “'Certain things,' eh?” he asked, and Michael shrugged.

“That's what I said.”

“Okay,” Ray said. And they sat there grinning at each other for a minute before breaking down laughing like immature teenagers.

“What did I miss?” Geoff asked, coming up behind them. “Was it comedy gold?”

Michael shook his head. “Nah.” He got up and stretched before moving off into the kitchen where Jack had vanished some time before to go and heat some food up. Geoff clambered over the back of the couch and plopped down in Michael's place, his shoulder pressing against Ray's. They sat in silence for a moment.

“You okay?” Geoff asked after a bit.

Ray glanced across at him. “I'm... fine? Why?”

Geoff shrugged. “You did nearly die the other day. And I noticed how nervous you seemed about all this.” He waved a hand between them and the other two, away in the kitchen. “I know it can be a bit overwhelming.”

“Yeah,” Ray said. He fiddled with the zipper of his hoodie. “A bit, but... it's good. I'm good.”

“Okay,” Geoff said.

Ray expected him to do something – lean in for a kiss, or put an arm around him maybe – but he didn't, and he quickly realised he would have to make the first move. Shifting closer to Geoff on the couch, he cuddled into his side, resting his head on his shoulder, and Geoff dropped his arm down around his shoulders.

It was nice – pleasant – different to the way he fit together with Michael, but not different in a bad way.

A few minutes later Ryan moved through the room before pausing to look back at them. Ray smiled at him, but couldn't tell if he smiled back behind the mask. He again felt that little pang, wishing he'd have kept it off, but shoved it away.

“Where's Gav?” Ryan asked.

“In the garage,” Geoff replied, and Ryan nodded. He didn't head to the garage though, just moved out towards the front door to keep watch on the porch.

Ray let out a little sigh, and Geoff turned to him. He didn't ask, but Ray suspected he already knew what was occupying his thoughts.

A large part of him felt relieved that the four of him were together, that things had worked out between them so easily. There would be hurdles ahead, he knew, but for now – things were okay.

They were together – but it wasn't complete, not yet. Ray knew the others were just as interested in Gavin as he was, and since the train he'd realised that things wouldn't quite feel right until Ryan joined them as well.

But the way the two of them had withdrawn recently gave him pause.

They would be stuck in this house for a few days while Joel sorted out the mercenaries. For a moment he felt uneasy again, wondering just how much things might change in that time – but Geoff's hand rose to his hair, stroking gently, soothing him into relaxing further against his side. He supposed all they could do was wait, and see how things played out.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sadspacebear on tumblr made this [awesome fanmix](http://8tracks.com/donthurtmeihaveablog/see-i-ve-come-to-burn-your-kingdom-down) for the story. Thanks so much <3


	20. Chapter 20

In his dreams Michael was back in the mirror maze. It was dark, and he could not see anything, and his shoulder was a dull throbbing ache at the back of his mind.

And Gavin was not with him.

He walked alone, hands outstretched, fingers brushing over the glassy surface of the mirrors. He knew the duck was in here somewhere with him and every now and then he would hear footsteps, faintly in the distance, and would freeze. Would hold his breath so not even that sound could give him away, the fear clawing at his belly and seizing up his chest. Then the footsteps would pass and he would move on, but every second that passed with him walking into more empty darkness made the nervousness growing in the pit of his stomach increase.

He needed to find Gavin.

Somehow in the dream he knew that the other man was in this maze too – with the duck, alone – he needed to find him. And not only to keep him safe – Michael needed the reassurance of his presence. Ached to have him nearby, to feel his hand in his or his arm around his shoulders.

He wandered on – wasn't sure how much time had passed. He felt frustrated, as though he'd been lost for hours, but only seconds had passed within the dream. Suddenly, the darkness was cut by the beam of a torch. He could see it in the mirror before him – someone was standing behind him, shining the light directly at the mirror so the reflection was taken up with a bright glare and he couldn't tell who it was.

He didn't want to turn and look.

His hands were sweating, his heart picking up nervously, a churning sick fear deep in his stomach. He thought it must be the duck behind him.

 _The duck is dead_ , he realised suddenly – remembered, without quite knowing how, that at some point Jack had killed her.

 _Or is she?_ It was a worming, paranoid doubt that crept into his nightmare. What if she wasn't dead? What if he'd only dreamed it – what if the carriage hadn't been enough to kill her – they hadn't _checked_. They hadn't gone over and properly checked to see if she was dead.

 _She might be alive. She might be alive and standing behind me and oh God, oh God, I don't want to turn around_ -

Heavy footsteps as whoever was behind him began to approach. He squeezed his eyes shut, shaking. Knew he should run but couldn't get his legs to move-

Michael woke with a lurching gasp, heart slamming, unsure where he was. The bed was foreign and he didn't recognise the walls around him and for a moment his head spun, and his shoulder ached, and he realised he was trembling violently and couldn't quite stop.

 _Calm down. Calm down._ All was silent around him and somehow that soothed him. He breathed deeply, in, out. Pulled the blankets up around his shoulders and slowly got his bearings back.

 _Felix's safe house. That's where we are._ He was in one of the bedrooms. It was sparsely furnished; the bookshelf against the wall empty, the walls a stark white, the desk bare. Suddenly it seemed oppressive, a little like a prison cell. The door was shut and he was alone, the bed cold around him.

 _Ray_. For a moment he was confused, wondered where the other was – then recalled that he'd been on second watch.

Ray might have been the first person on his mind, but Michael suddenly, abruptly realised that he was not his only boyfriend anymore. There was Jack and Geoff now too – they'd taken the second room. There had been a slightly awkward moment when they looked at him and sort of wordlessly offered for him to come and join them there that night, but he'd frozen and then declined. Wasn't sure if he was ready for that yet, and it was a single bed besides.

It felt a little unreal this morning, remembering that new relationship, barely a day old at this point. Wondering what was going to happen between them today.

Rubbing his eyes groggily, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and groped for his phone and glasses on the bedside table. It was nearly six in the morning, but still dark with winter rolling in. He was cold and couldn't tell if it was from the weather or the dream he'd just had, and pulled a jacket on before opening the door and padding out into the main room.

His footsteps seemed too loud in the silent house, and suddenly he felt an odd, lonely sort of ache. The dream had shaken him – his doubts as to whether the duck was actually dead still lurked at the back of his mind. They were stupid, he realised now – it had just been a nightmare – but he couldn't quite shake them, and suddenly he wanted – no, _needed_ – Gavin. Needed to see that he was okay after having lost him in the dream.

Ray was out on the porch, he could see him through the front window. The dim, yellow verandah light was a little beacon in the dark before the dawn. He felt settled, a little safer as he caught sight of Ray – and then Gavin, who was curled up asleep on the sofa. He was almost unnaturally still, breathing deep and even, and Michael's eyes fell on the pill bottle on the coffee table before he moved to sit down next to Gavin.

He felt nervous suddenly, almost shy as he reached out tentatively to touch the other man, his fingers brushing lightly over his hair. Part of him longed to lie down next to him, pull him close – hold him properly and just be reassured that he was _there_ , that they were both safe and alive for now – but he felt awkward suddenly, and shifted away.

The movement made a spring in the sofa squeak under him. It was so loud that he nearly jumped out of his skin, and Gavin stirred, frowning, a little confused murmur escaping his lips at the disturbance.

 _Shit_ , thought Michael – he hadn't meant to wake him, and started to get up, but the movement jostled Gavin further and the next thing Michael knew his eyes were cracking open. When they focused on Michael he blinked blearily a few times before slowly sitting up, looking confused.

“Michael?” he slurred, voice thick with sleep – Michael couldn't help the small smile that tugged at his lips, endeared.

“Hey Gav.” He sat back down, slowly – keeping a tentative distance between them. “Sorry I woke you.”

“S'fine.” He rubbed at his eyes, seeming groggy as all hell. Like even though he was awake there was still a fog hanging over him. “What's going on?”

“Nothing,” Michael replied – but even half-asleep it seemed Gavin was observant because he frowned a little, shifting and turning to face Michael on the couch.

“Not nothing.” His eyes scanned Michael's face, growing more alert by the minute, before his frown deepened. “You couldn't sleep?”

Michael stayed silent, gaze darting away – and Gavin seemed to realise it then.

“Bad dream?” he asked – and Michael paused for a moment, some innate part of him wanting to deny it. To try to save some pride. But suddenly he recalled those nights out on the road. Gavin forcing himself to stay awake the whole night to avoid what he knew would come in his dreams. The way he'd shake and writhe when he did manage to drop off, trapped in his own head.

He nodded, hesitantly, and Gavin's face softened. He lifted the edge of the blanket he'd been under and after a pause Michael shifted over on the couch to join him underneath. Gavin tucked the blanket around him then dropped an arm down over his shoulder. It was too easy to let him – too easy to allow his head to fall against Gavin's shoulder, to curl his arm around the other man's waist. To seek comfort in his touch.

“Wanna talk about it?” Gavin asked, and Michael bit his lip.

“It was stupid. It was about the fairground. The duck.” He scoffed out a laugh. “When I woke up I wasn't sure if she was actually dead.”

“She is,” Gavin said, firmly – and Michael nodded.

“I know. I saw her fucking die, I should... I shouldn't be worried about it. But I am. Like I said. It's stupid.”

“It's not stupid,” Gavin replied. And then, after a moment, an oddly vulnerable note in his voice - “I get that too, sometimes, I... I know Barry's dead. But sometimes I'll dream, or remember, and I... I feel like I'm still in danger.”

Michael stared at him. Gavin was looking straight ahead, eyes down, and didn't seem to have realised that Michael had little to no idea who he was talking about. _Barry_. The name was familiar – Burnie had brought it up. Said it was the guy who'd ruined the last job Gavin worked on. But he didn't know all the details – and after a second Gavin seemed to remember that. Glanced at him and forced a quick, almost sheepish smile.

“Anyway,” he said – but Michael's mind was still on the topic.

Again, that burning curiosity hit him.

_What happened to you?_

He reached out under the blanket, fumbling – his hand hit Gavin's knee and the other man jumped before he reached out and laced Michael's fingers with his. The contact was reassuring and Michael felt the tension drain from his shoulders. He could feel Gavin's heart beating where his head was resting against the other's chest, slightly too fast.

“You don't realise how much you bloody miss sleep until you can't get it,” Gavin murmured.

“Yeah,” Michael replied. Glanced at the pills again. “Those helping?”

“Sort of,” Gavin replied, and then sighed. “And I guess _sort of_ is good enough for now."

Michael closed his eyes. He relaxed into silence but couldn't quite stop being aware of how nervous Gavin seemed; he was a little tense against Michael's side, heart still slamming in his chest. After a few minutes his fingers trailed over Michael's arm softly, almost tentatively, and when Michael opened his eyes again he recoiled and snatched his hand back as though he'd been burned.

“Do you want me to get Ray?” he asked. It came out a little too quickly – but there was something almost reluctant in it, and after a second Michael shook his head.

“It's okay,” he replied, slowly. “This is fine. This helps, actually.” A pause. “I'm glad you were in that maze with me.”

“Fat lot of good I was.”

“No, I would have been killed if you hadn't dragged me out of there,” Michael said. He shifted back a bit so he could turn and look Gavin in the eye. They were sitting near enough that when they faced each other they were almost too close together. Michael didn't miss the way Gavin's gaze darted down to his lips before flicking back up to his eyes. “I know you get scared a lot, that if something happens you won't be able to save yourself. But you took care of yourself – and _me –_ just fine back there. You're not as helpless as you think, Gav.”

Gavin smiled a bit, looking away. “Yeah, well. By the time Ryan's done with me I'll probably be the next Jackie Chan.”

Michael snorted out a laugh. “That'd be a sight.”

Another pause.

“I heard you, you know.” It was an oddly abrupt change in topic and Michael blinked a few times.

“Heard me what?”

“I heard you. When you killed Shadles.” Gavin's voice was tight, strained almost. Like he wasn't quite sure what he wanted to hear. “You said you did it for me.”

“Because I did.” And he could _hear_ how disgustingly sincere his voice was – how open and honest and angry at everyone and everything that had played a role in hurting Gavin in the past – but couldn't quite bring himself to even attempt to cover it up. “He tricked you. Messed with you. He deserved it. I'd do it again. I'd do it to anyone who touched you.”

A small smile twisted at Gavin's lips and Michael fancied he relaxed a little. Lost something of the tension that had been hanging over him the last few days, since he started pulling away from Ray and Michael.

Something stirred in him then, a tentative little hope that _maybe this can work out after all_. Because Gavin's reaction to working out that Ray – or the rest of them – were into him hadn't been the sort of alarm of someone who was wondering how to turn someone else down. It had been something more hesitant, more anxious. Like it was his trust issues holding him back rather than anything else.

The creak of the front door made them both jump, twisting around on the couch to see Ray coming in. The door opening had let a draft of cold air in and Michael huddled further under the blanket, pressing closer into Gavin's side. Ray smiled as his eyes fell on the two of them and he closed the door, crossing the room to join them.

“Hey,” he said, leaning in.

Michael closed his eyes, smiling as Ray planted a gentle kiss on his lips. He had been oddly, irrationally worried that in joining Jack and Geoff they'd lose some of this – their current casual affection with each other. That somehow adding more people would change things between them. But so far it hadn't, and he couldn't be more relieved.

“Hey,” he replied. Ray pulled back and for a stupid moment Michael half-expected him to kiss Gavin as well. Something about the thought felt too easy, too natural. But he didn't – just sat down on the couch, squeezing in on Michael's other side.

Sandwiched between them he felt oddly at peace; there was something right and comfortable to it that only confirmed that yes, he wanted – _needed_ – Gavin to join them. That without him things were incomplete.

“It's fucking cold out there,” Ray commented. “Let's hope we can, like, wrap up this Edgar thing before winter really rolls in. Then we can all take a holiday to the Southern hemisphere.”

“Like it would matter to you,” Michael replied. “You would literally just sit indoors the entire holiday anyway.”

“That is true.”

Gavin laughed a bit, and Ray looked over him with a grin. He glanced at Michael and there was something hopeful in his eyes, a silent question – _is he coming around a bit_? - all Michael could do was smile back.

As all they were doing for now was waiting for Joel to sort out their mercenary situation, there was little pressure for anyone to get up early. It felt good to have a day to genuinely unwind, and they ended up turning the TV on. It turned out that Felix's safe house did not have cable and the only thing they could find by way of entertainment was a channel of old cartoons. It was light enough viewing that they kept it on, keeping up a sarcastic commentary all the while.

Michael couldn't help but be reminded of some of the mornings he and Ray had spent on days off between jobs. It wasn't quite the same, of course – they'd never have cuddled so close together before – but there was something comfortable about it. And there was something comfortable about the way Gavin fit close to Michael's other side as well. He thought back to the night they'd spent out at the motor inn, sitting in bed the three of them, snickering over some weird old British show. He could picture this happening again – _wanted_ it to happen again. Liked the way he could make both of them huff with laughter. Liked the way Ray's eyebrows would rise and he'd go into a disbelieving sort of silence when Gavin started to genuinely try and work out the cartoon physics.

They'd devolved into a conversation about the shows they used to watch as kids when the sound of footsteps echoed down the corridor and they looked up to see Geoff and Jack emerging from the bedroom. The sun had risen by now, a grey dawn filtering in through the windows, the porch light not standing out quite so brightly. A little nervous jitter started up in Michael's stomach at the sight of them. Everything was still so new, and something still felt a little unreal about everything.

But when he'd kissed Jack, two nights ago for the first time – he'd known, then, that he wanted this. That it felt right.

“Good morning,” Geoff said, eyebrows rising at the sight of the three of them on the couch.

Gavin had gone tense again. Everything had been so natural before but the arrival of Geoff and Jack served as a sudden reminder that he was the odd one out here.

Michael looked over and caught Ray shooting Gavin a look that could only be described as _yearning_. Seriously, those eyes would give Bambi a run for his money. Fortunately he was quickly distracted by Geoff leaning in. He hesitated for a moment as though fearful that after the first twenty-four hours of their relationship one or the other of them would have changed their minds, but when neither of them ran away screaming he grinned and kissed Ray on the forehead, then Michael. There was a very awkward pause where, as with Ray, Michael half-thought he was going to kiss Gavin as well, but after a second he just reached out and ruffled his hair.

Michael glanced at Jack and grinned. “So every morning and night and whenever we meet up is there just going to be a weird cycle where we all try and kiss each other in every possible combination? Because I foresee that taking up a lot of time.”

“Nah,” Geoff said, and promptly threw himself down on the couch beside them, drawing yelps as they shuffled over to avoid being squashed. There really wasn't room. “The novelty will wear off soon enough!”

“Gee thanks,” Ray muttered, but he was smiling, seeming relieved that things weren't awkward this morning – and suddenly, as much as he was enjoying the excitement of this being new, all the firsts – suddenly Michael found himself just as much looking forward to when kissing Jack and Geoff good morning would come to him as easily and naturally to him as breathing, as setting a charge or a trip mine. When it would become the norm.

“How long have you guys been up?” Jack asked.

“About an hour.” It was Gavin who answered, and when they all turned to look at him he shifted, seeming suddenly self conscious. Michael realised suddenly that he was penned in on the corner of the couch, surrounded by four other people who were all dating each other. Four other people who he must know by now all had an interest in him.

“Quiet night,” Geoff commented. “I guess I'll ring Heyman today and see what's going on.”

“There's a place near here,” Gavin said. “Maybe an hour or so out. It was on the list I got from Clarence. One of Edgar's hideouts. Might be nothing, but it's probably worth checking out.”

Geoff nodded. “Sounds good.” He stretched back across the couch and looked around at the living room, pulling a face.

“Fucking Felix has absolutely no sense of interior design.”

“This is just a safe house, though,” Michael pointed out. “He probably hasn't used it in years.”

“Yeah, but my ones are nice as shit. The house we were in back when all this started? Better kept up than this place,” Geoff scoffed. “It's lazy is what it is.”

“What, is the Feng Shui not in line for you?” Ray laughed, and Geoff snorted and elbowed him.

“I mean it. This shit wouldn't fly on _Trading Spaces_.”

“How much time do you spend at your apartment?” Michael asked, suddenly curious. He hadn't thought about it much before now; what Geoff and Jack's actual lifestyle might be like. He and Ray could live mostly in the one place between jobs because they weren't all that well known; there weren't people out to get them. He imagined it might be different for someone with as many enemies as the other two.

“Quite a lot, actually,” Jack replied. “Very few people know where it is.”

“Ryan managed to work it out,” Ray pointed out, and Jack pulled a face.

“Yeah, well, Ryan is Ryan. But we stay there when we can. Some times of the year are busier than others.” A pause. “You two don't have to move in with us, you know.”

Michael bit his lip. “Isn't it a bit early to have this conversation?”

Jack shrugged. “Probably. I'm just saying. We'll take this slowly. Work things out as they go. Everyone moving in together all at once probably isn't that good of an idea.”

A rather awkward silence fell, and Jack laughed nervously.

“Shit, have I scared you off now?”

“No,” Michael said – and glanced at Ray to find him shaking his head to. “No, you haven't, I... I think that's a good idea. To stay in our flats for now. Hang out or sleep over or whatever, but keep the separate living spaces, just for the start.”

Gavin shifted on the couch, trying to get up but unable to, hemmed in as he was by the others. Michael started to move to let him rise but Geoff reached over and grabbed Gavin's arm.

“Hey, hey,” he said. “Where are you going?”

“I...” Gavin trailed off, looking between the rest of them pointedly, and Michael saw Geoff's face soften.

“Sorry to third-wheel you,” he said. “Well, fifth-wheel. I just remembered I never officially offered you a job once all this is over.”

Gavin just stared at him. Michael suddenly recalled him mentioning his plans about going back to England after all this – how he didn't want to think about future jobs – but something must have changed between then and now because he didn't seem spooked. Nervous, maybe. But thoughtful.

“I could do with someone with your skills in the crew,” Geoff continued. “No pressure if you don't want to, of course. For all I know you mean to retire after all this. But if you want – there's a place for you here. With the rest of us.”

It shouldn't have been an awkward question, but something about the way Geoff said those last few lines – it came out a little too tender, a little too loaded. Like he wasn't just offering Gavin a _job_ with the four of them but something more. In fact, it came out as an almost blatant invitation to join the relationship, if unintentional, and Michael saw the way Gavin froze up. In that instant it was too late to backtrack, to pretend that Geoff hadn't meant it.

“I...” Gavin began, then trailed off. His eyes flicked across all of them nervously and then came to rest on _Michael_ , of all people – he'd've thought Ray would be the one Gavin went straight to for comfort, or confirmation, but suddenly it was him Gavin was staring at. Eyes wide and pleading and confused.

He nodded slowly, reaching out to squeeze Gavin's hand under the blanket.

“Like Geoff said,” he said, softly. “ _No pressure_. But we... _I_...want you to be a part of this.”

For a moment Gavin just stared at him, and Michael stared back – bit his lip – tried to ignore the way his heart was slamming uncontrollably in his chest. For a second he thought – _hoped_ – that Gavin was going to whisper _yes_ , or lean in and kiss him (and there was a thought that sent a jolt through him like electricity) – or even just nod.

For a second, for a second he really thought he _might_ , because there was a look in his eyes – a torn sort of longing.

But then, just as quickly, he jerked his gaze away. Shrugged off the blanket and stumbled up off the couch.

“I... I don't... I can't, I'm sorry-”

“Gavin-” Geoff reached out and caught at his arm again. His eyes were wide, obviously regretting his slip-up – making Gav freak out had never been any of their intentions – but Gavin pulled away. He smiled at them, but it was tight and frantic and didn't reach his eyes.

“Sorry – I'm not upset, please don't feel bad. I just... can't, right now. I'm sorry.”

He walked off quickly, heading for the garage, leaving the rest of them sitting in a rather stunned silence. Michael turned to Ray to find him sitting, looking down at his hands. He looked disappointed, and angry at himself for being disappointed, and Michael felt the same odd mix of emotions stewing in himself. Because he wanted – _God_ he wanted – Gavin to join them. Felt, somehow, that having that missing piece might abate the slight tension that still lingered over the newness of their relationship with Jack and Geoff – things still didn't feel quite right, not with that unresolved issue hanging over all their heads.

But this – this had just proven that maybe it was still too soon, that they had moved too fast-

Even if everything in Gavin's eyes had been screaming that he _wanted_ to join them. Something was just holding him back.

 

* * *

 

Jack could have kicked himself for not doing anything.

For standing there useless and silent. And God, they had screwed things up now – come on too fast and too strong and at completely the wrong moment – he _knew_ they should have waited. He should have stepped in, said something before things went too far.

But he hadn't, and now – now as they sat, staring at each other in a slightly horrified silence-

He had to do something _now_.

“Okay,” he said, and they all turned to him, eyes wide, relieved almost. Looking to him for guidance. He swallowed. “Okay, I didn't want to bring this up earlier because we've only been together for _literally a single day_ , but – we should talk about Gavin.”

“What's there to talk about?” Geoff asked – Jack's eyes flicked over to him and he frowned as he registered the way Geoff's head was hanging down, hands clasped tightly together in his lap. Shoulders hunched a little. “I fucked it up, came on too strong. Spooked him.”

“The... timing wasn't ideal, I'll grant that.” He pulled a chair up from nearby and sat facing the others on the couch. Reached out and squeezed Geoff's knee with one hand, Ray's with the other. “But there's no need to act like we've scared him off forever. If anything we should talk, right now, about what we want from this.”

“I think it's fairly obvious what we all want from this,” Michael cut in, voice tight – almost defensive, and when Jack looked over at him something tugged at his heart.

It was easy to forget sometimes just how young Ray and Michael were, how little experience they had in all this. Yet another reason why Jack would have wanted to take things far more slowly than they had.

“If this is going to work,” Jack said patiently, nodding between the four of them, “Communication has to be our best friend. We might all _know_ that we – that we like Gavin.” Ray's shoulders slumped a little at the words, like he was relieved they'd finally been said aloud. “But we need to _communicate_. Talk about it. We can't make assumptions here.”

“You knew already that Ray and I wanted him.” Michael winced a little as soon as he said it. “That came out crudely, I meant-”

“It's fine,” Jack assured him. “I know what you meant. And I feel the same.”

They all turned to Geoff, and he nodded, head rising now. His smile was a little more genuine this time.

“Fuck yeah I want him to be part of this.”

And it was true – maybe they'd all known they were all thinking it, but having said it aloud – being assured that it was mutual on all fronts – it seemed to calm them all down. Reassured them that they were all on the same page.

Because while Jack had been excited the last few days, excited and happy and revelling in this new relationship – while his first kiss with Michael had only confirmed in his mind that adding the two younger men to his relationship was what he wanted – something had felt incomplete, an annoying, niggling loose end that made everything feel slightly off.

“Good,” he said then – and smiled, wide and relieved. He saw the way Ray and Michael exchanged a little, almost hysterical grin, Ray leaning in to nudge Michael's shoulder against his own.

“Gavin wants in too,” Michael said then, with a small frown - “I can see it. But he's scared. I don't know what exactly is holding him back but...”

Jack bit his lip. He looked over at Geoff, caught his eye – could tell his boyfriend was thinking the same thing as him.

Michael and Ray still didn't know the details of what had happened with Gavin's old team. And it was obvious that no matter how much Gavin wanted to trust them – how much he might want to _be_ with them – that was a sticking point. One that they had been slowly wearing down, over the course of missions and jobs and repeatedly proving that they had his back – but, it seemed, not quite worn down enough for him to finally let himself trust them completely.

“Give him time,” he said. “We've made an offer now, we've made it clear. The ball's in his court and he can take as long as he needs.”

The others nodded and Jack figured the discussion would end there, when Ray spoke up, almost hesitantly.

“So, uh – what about Ryan?”

They all paused, and Jack felt his already pounding heart skip a beat – he had been focused on Michael and Ray the last few days but since Ryan had taken his mask off... something had shifted, then, something small. An added intimate level of trust that only made him care for the other man more.

Ray seemed to take their silence as disapproval, because he added, quickly, “Just, um. Since we're all about communication now, I thought – well, if we want Gavin in here we need to think about Ryan too because. Gavin and Ryan, you know. That's a thing.”

“Ray, chill out, dude,” Michael said, reaching out and poking him in the cheek. Ray swatted him away and Michael grinned, poking him again. “You're not the only one, okay, things are... even with Gavin in, things still wouldn't feel right.”

Jack nodded – looked over at Geoff to see him nodding as well. Again, that odd relief that they were all on the same page. Conversation really was key, it seemed.

“You talk to him,” Geoff said quietly, looking at Jack. “See where his head's at. But we don't want to move in too fast. Might scare him off like we did with Gavin. Does he even know we're interested?”

“I think he does,” Jack said, with a wry smile. “He picks up on a lot. It shouldn't come as a surprise to him.”

Another silence. Jack felt he should say something – because things were still moving so _fast_ , it felt like they were on that train again, the beautiful scenery flashing by so quickly that if you looked away for too long you missed it. Like they were heading somewhere, sure, but they weren't quite taking the time to enjoy the journey.

He didn't quite know how to put it in words, though – so he was glad when Geoff spoke up, reaching out to grab Ray's hand, then Jack's.

“Hey. We're adding a fuckload of people really fucking quickly – or talking about it, anyway, but... this still has to be important. The four of us. And even if it doesn't work out with Gav and Ryan, I want to give this a proper shot. Maybe they join us, maybe they don't, but I'm still really fucking excited to be with you guys.” He smiled at them, and Michael and Ray smiled back, something almost shy in it. “And it's hard working stuff out, trying stuff, when we're so busy with Edgar, but after all this is done we'll, like, go somewhere and just chill and like. Really get down how this all works. Okay?”

“Sounds like a plan,” Michael said. And then, as he threw back the blanket and got up - “And now, if you'll excuse me, I need coffee before my brain melts.”

His hand trailed over Geoff's shoulder as he climbed off the couch, heading for the kitchen, and Jack saw Geoff's eyes track the movement, a small smile tugging at his lips.

 

* * *

 

“You could take that off, you know,” Jack said.

Ryan froze, shoulders stiffening where he sat at the head of the table. Across from him, Ray looked up with interest. It was just the three of them, sitting in the kitchen over breakfast – Ryan not eating as usual, masked as he was. Geoff was out on the porch, calling Joel to ask about his progress, and Michael had gone out to the garage to check on Gavin.

“I've eaten already,” Ryan replied, voice almost _too_ calm.

“I know,” Jack replied, “But it can't be comfortable wearing it twenty-four seven. We've all seen your face.”

“Force of habit, I suppose,” Ryan said. He reached up and adjusted his mask but made no move to remove it, and Jack turned back to his cereal, fighting not to be disappointed. _Small steps_.

“What's the plan for today, then?” Ryan asked, after a few moments that were silent but for the clinking of spoons in bowls.

“We're going to check out one of Edgar's hideouts near here, on the off chance something's there,” Ray replied. He paused before adding, “Maybe later on if we have time you can show me more knife stuff.”

“You want me to teach you.” It came out flat, almost unenthusiastic, but Jack could tell it was unintentional – the product of surprise more than anything else – and luckily it seemed that Ray could too because he nodded, unfazed.

“Yeah? I mean, I have room to learn.” He grinned a bit. “You should probably teach Gav something too if you're gonna start giving him knives to defend himself with.”

Ryan scoffed a bit. “I've been trying. He doesn't approve of my teaching methods. Too much stick and not enough carrot.”

Ray grinned a bit. “I think the problem there is with the student, not the teacher.”

“Yeah, well. Maybe you'll be a better pupil then.”

Geoff walked back in then, moving to sit down at the table with them.

“Heyman's gotten started on things but it'll be a few days before we see results. In the mean time, that hideout is about an hour or so from here. We should go scout it out. You all in?” he asked, and they nodded.

“Someone needs to stay here with Gavin,” Ryan pointed out.

Ray rose. “I'll go ask Michael if he wants to, otherwise I'll stay.”

He walked off towards the garage, leaving the three older men sitting behind. Jack glanced across and caught Geoff gazing thoughtfully at Ryan.

They had talked about Gavin a lot more than they had talked about Ryan. Jack himself was close to the other man but he knew Geoff didn't know him quite as well. He wondered vaguely if he should orchestrate something, make sure the two of them spent some more time together.

“You gonna keep that mask on after we kill Edgar?” Geoff asked eventually.

Ryan's head snapped up. “What's all the interest?” he asked, looking between the two of them.

Geoff shrugged. “Well, now I've seen your face, it's strange for you to cover it up again.”

Ryan stared at him for a long moment before he got up and left and table. Geoff grimaced, but the motion hadn't been hostile, more awkward, like Ryan hadn't quite known what to say so had settled for saying nothing at all.

 

* * *

 

The hideout was an abandoned cannery some on the opposite fringes of the town Felix's safe-house was in. Ryan rode ahead on his bike while the others took the car.

Jack was abruptly reminded of the time they had gone out to get Beardo. It was strange to think of how different things had been back then; Ray in his slump as he tried to work out how he felt about Michael. The other two not even yet considering the possibility that in just a few weeks time they'd be reconsidering their own relationship with the people they were working with.

Back then Ray had been the odd one out; a third wheel as they drove. Now things were different – he sat up front with Geoff, Jack in the back. They didn't talk about anything important – had had more than enough heavy conversations for the day – but the same small smiles and nervous excitement that seemed to undercut every single thing they did nowadays were present.

Jack couldn't help but grin as he sat back, watching Ray and Geoff get into a heated debate over some game or another – unsure if it was the odd contrast between who they were and the triviality of what they were discussing, or the way whatever Ray was saying, deadpan, made Geoff break into a fit of laughter. But when he looked at Ray all he could do was drink in the details; the way his eyes creased up when he laughed. His voice. They hadn't really had the chance to spend one-on-one time with each other since they'd all gotten together – he and Michael hadn't either – and he made a mental note to try and work that in somewhere, when they had the time.

The whole town was quiet and spread out and the cannery was on the outskirts, a little way off the road. There was no one around when they drove up, not another living being in sight as they approached the actual complex on foot.

“It looks empty,” Jack said, as they glanced around the area. It was quiet, eerily still. There was no life behind the black windows of the building. No cars in the road but their own.

“We'll scout it out,” Ryan said, though he didn't sound very hopeful. “Split up in twos. Be careful.”

Jack glanced at Geoff. His earlier resolution to talk with Ryan, to tentatively gauge where he was at in terms of their relationship, was at the forefront of his mind – and Geoff's too, it seemed, for he caught on quickly and gave a small nod before grabbing Ray's hand and setting off with him.

Jack couldn't help but smile a bit as he watched his two boyfriends walk off together. He looked over in time to see Ryan staring at them too, though the other man glanced away quickly.

“Let's go,” he said brusquely, setting off around the other side of the building. Jack followed. They walked into the main compound, but all was desolate and abandoned. There was rubbish on the ground and too many pigeons. Otherwise all was still and quiet as a graveyard.

“Have you given our offer any further thought?” Jack asked eventually, breaking the silence.

“Yes,” Ryan replied.

“And?”

“I'm not opposed to the idea.” It was a lame attempt to downplay it; Jack could tell what he meant. That he wanted to work with them. That he wasn't going to just disappear after all this. It was a promising start.

“We talked to Gavin about it this morning.”

“He staying on too?”

“Maybe.” Jack paused as they reached the end of the building. There was a door but it was locked; breaking it down would draw too much attention if there was someone inside. He scrubbed at a dirty window with his sleeve and peered in. All was dark and quiet inside. He was pretty sure Edgar wasn't here.

When he turned back around Ryan was leaning against the wall watching him.

“You talk to Gavin about anything else?” he asked. He was the one probing now and Jack could hear the measured carefulness in his tone. He wasn't quite sure what to make of it.

“Maybe,” he said again.

There was an awkward silence.

“That gold we got for Joel,” Jack said finally. “It was pretty.”

“It was.”

“It was beautiful. Maybe some people would have been tempted to keep it, to find another way to get rid of Edgar's mercs. But that sort of thing – it's worthless to us. We're not in this for the money, Ryan, Geoff and I. Money comes with it, sure, but it... it's about the crew. About the two of us – and Michael and Ray now too.” He was beginning to grow oddly nervous, because Ryan was staring at him but with the mask on he couldn't tell what he was thinking. He feared how he might react. “It's not about the money with you either, I know. You can have all the gold in the world and it means fuck all in the end.”

“Jack...” It came out softly, on a breath, but Ryan didn't go on. Didn't seem to know what to say.

“There are things that matter to us. Not gold and money. Not even power, really.” He took a step closer to Ryan, carefully. “ _You_ matter to us.”

“I know.” Ryan had gone tense, his eyes wide under the mask. Part of Jack wanted to reach out and pull it off his face, but he knew better. Forced himself to keep his hands by his sides as he watched Ryan obviously struggle for words.

“I know,” Ryan said again, after a minute. “And I know what you're trying to ask.”

Jack's heart was pounding; he'd only meant to test the waters but somehow – somehow it had gone further, somehow, just as Geoff had slipped up this morning, he'd accidentally ended up extending what sounded like an offer, because now, it seemed, Ryan was struggling to come up with what to say. And some small, stupid part of Jack almost thought he'd say _yes_. That right here and now was where it would all come together.

But Ryan turned away, shoulders hunched. Raised a hand up under his mask and rubbed his face.

“I'm not... Jack, I.... shit's happened. You know that. These last few weeks, months, it's been a roller-coaster.”

Jack nodded, sympathetically.

“I know you guys want to bring Gavin in as well,” Ryan said. “And I know you know that Gavin and I have... a thing, sort of, but. What you've got now, with Michael and Ray – with Gav, too, if he agrees – it's... it's new and it's fragile and it's already going to be hard enough dealing with that without... without me in there too.”

“Ryan, that's...” He'd expected rejection, expected Ryan to say he didn't trust them enough, or imply he was still too cut up about what had happened to his own team. Not this. Not the implication that he was scared of _ruining_ things. “No! You wouldn't be messing up anything – if anything you'd be _helping_ , it doesn't... it won't feel complete without you, especially if Gavin-”

“I don't think you get it.” Ryan's voice had risen frantically before but now it was colder, lower. The forced level tone Jack had heard from him before when he was questioning Mark Nutt or they were discussing Edgar. He reached out to him but Ryan grabbed his wrists. The hold wasn't painful but he firmly held Jack away from him, not letting him get close enough to touch.

“I've gotten closer to you than I ever expected to when this started,” Ryan said. Jack couldn't look away from his eyes behind the mask. So blue in the pale winter light. Earnest and _pained_. “And I... I've changed a lot too, I know, but there's still... there's still shit about me that would get in the way, and it's not just about my old team. I don't... I've been alone for years and it wouldn't-”

“It doesn't matter, Ry,” Jack insisted. “All four, all _five_ of us have baggage – there's so much we already have to sort out between us that adding one more is barely-”

“ _I am not a clean man,_ Jack.” He snapped it harshly and Jack pulled away from his grip. Took a step back. Ryan's fists were clenched by his sides; he was shaking.

There was a moment of very tense silence.

“I am not a clean man,” he repeated, quietly – and turned away, stalking off back around the building.

Jack stood and stared after him, heart pounding, head reeling.

 _Excuses,_ was the first thing that came clearly to him.

 _Excuses_. Ryan's whole demeanour reeked of them – he was _scared_ , Jack could see it – but he could tell, too, that Ryan wanted this as much as the rest of them. And perhaps it was easier to convince himself that they were better off without him than it was to face up to whatever it was that was holding him back.

The rejection still hurt, though, and for a moment Jack could not bring himself to move. Just stood, leaning against the wall, head in his hands, wondering just when things had managed to get so fucking _complicated_.

 

* * *

 

“How's it going?” Michael asked quietly, coming up behind Gavin in the garage.

Gavin pulled his headphones off and tossed them down, running his hands through his hair.

“Terribly,” he replied, voice laced with frustration. “It's no damn use, I couldn't find the pig before and I can't find him now. Wherever Edgar is, it's deep underground. Even without Shadles' help he's staying off the radar.”

“Hey.” Michael came up, rested a hand on his shoulder. “We'll find him. It's not all on you.”

“It kind of is, though. This is what Geoff hired me for.” Gavin's eyes darted to Michael's hand but he didn't pull it away, determined not to let what had happened earlier get between them. He'd learned enough with Ray the first time to know that ignoring each other, letting things fester, was by far the least effective way to solve your problems.

“Take a break at least,” Michael said. “Let Heyman do his thing then we'll work out a new plan. Maybe set a trap for him, something like that.”

Gavin nodded, pushing his chair away from the computer desk. The wheels scraped noisily against the concrete floor, suddenly very loud in the silence. He stretched, cracking the joints in his neck and back, and Michael grimaced.

“That is fucking disgusting. You're going to get arthritis.”

“Your face is disgusting,” Gavin shot back, and Michael gave him the finger.

“My face has pulled in not one but three dudes, so. Suck on that.”

Unfortunately the reminder of their relationship had Gavin looking away, nervous again, and Michael sighed.

“Let's go back in the house,” he said, changing the subject. “Do something else.”

Gavin nodded, getting up and trailing after him back into the living room. For a moment Michael was at a loss for what to actually do, but it was Gavin who spoke up first.

“You should teach me more self defence stuff.”

“You want to?” Michael asked, a little surprised at his being the one to bring it up. Their first lesson had gone alright, sure, but he figured Ryan had pretty much taken over on that front. “I thought Ryan was teaching you.”

“Yeah, but he's not here right now, is he?” Gavin pointed out. “Teach me something cool so I can kick his arse next time. Take him by surprise.”

Michael laughed. “Yeah, okay.”

It turned out that whatever Ryan had been doing had been working, because there was a vast improvement in Gavin's form since the last time Michael had had a stab at teaching him – to the point where he severely underestimated him and Gavin took him by surprise and managed to get a few blows in immediately.

There was something satisfying about seeing that progress; at least now he had the reassurance that if worse came to worst Gavin could at least throw a half-decent punch. He still had a long way to go though; when it came to repetitive, practiced movements he may have improved, but if Michael threw any curveballs at him he tended to revert back to flailing and squawking.

“Swinging your limbs around like wet noodles will not do anything, Gav,” he chided, pausing for a drink. “It might confuse your attacker for two seconds, but that's about it.”

“Maybe my _aim_ is confusion,” Gavin replied, and did a motion with his arms that could only be described as 'windmilling'. “That's what some birds do, right? Flap about and make such bloody weird noises that they scare things off?”

Michael choked on his water.

“Between the sounds you make and that big beak of yours,” he tapped the side of his nose and Gavin spluttered indignantly, “I think you're halfway to being a bird already.”

Gavin made a noise of indignation so shrill that it really didn't help his case, and charged Michael, who barely put his water bottle down in time to defend himself. He ducked Gavin's first clumsy swipe but the other man managed to get a knee in, winding him before Michael got a leg around his ankle and tripped him up.

Gavin hit the floor a little harder than Michael had intended and let out a grunt as the breath was knocked out of him. Hit by a pang of concern, Michael started forward to check on him.

“Shit, are you okay-”

He broke off as he dropped down next to Gavin. When he fell his shirt had ridden up and Michael frowned as he caught a glimpse of what looked like scars on his back. Normally he wouldn't have batted an eyelid, because that was fairly typical in their line of work – God knew he and Ray weren't exactly unmarked – but this was _Gavin_ , Gavin who shouldn't have been anywhere close enough to the line of fire to ever get injured, and the injury itself, in the quick glimpse he got of it before Gavin scrambled up and tugged his shirt back down, didn't look like it had come from shrapnel or any sort of glancing combat blow.

It looked calculated. Deliberate.

“What was that on your back?” Michael demanded.

Gavin had stumbled to his feet and Michael rose as well, taking note of the startled, almost panicked look in the other's eyes, like Michael had seen something he wasn't meant to.

“Nothing,” he said, a little too quickly. “We're done here.”

He turned to head off to the garage and Michael reached out and caught his wrist, pulling him back. Something was very wrong, he could feel it – an odd sick nervousness starting up in him. The same feeling he'd gotten back at the Corpirate's mansion, when he saw Gavin break down for the first time. When he realised that something was not quite right.

“What's wrong?” he insisted – Gavin wouldn't look at him now. Tried to pull his arm away, but Michael held fast – then frowned as he noticed something else.

The weather was cold and getting colder, had been for months now. He rarely saw Gavin without a jacket on, and when he did he often didn't pay much attention. But they'd stripped down to t-shirts for this self defence class and now that he was on the lookout for anything out of the ordinary, he caught sight of a mark on his arm, just under his sleeve.

“Michael...” Gavin started. Not pulling away any more but standing limp, an almost defeated look on his face.

Michael barely heard him. As if in a daze he reached forward and pushed the other man's sleeve up. Felt his stomach drop at the myriad of small round burn scars, overlapping and scattering up across his upper arm towards his shoulder.

Michael closed his eyes. He felt sick.Cigarettes didn't scar at a glance – wouldn't leave marks like that unless someone had held one against his skin deliberately.

_Jesus fucking Christ._

He opened his eyes to find Gavin staring resolutely past him. His lips were pressed together tightly, his eyes glassy, shaking a little in Michael's grip.

“There's more,” Michael croaked out, “Isn't there? Under your shirt.”

Gavin nodded. Still wouldn't look at him. When he tugged at his wrist again Michael let him go; watched as he silently moved off into the nearest bedroom and shut the door.

He let out a long stream of breath, turning to slump down on the couch. Buried his head in his hands and tugged at his hair until it _hurt_. His thoughts were a whirlwind, a clamour of noise and colour and too much new information. _Gavin_ at the forefront of it all. _Gavin, Gavin, Gavin._

He wasn't sure what he had imagined to be the root of his trust issues, the reason for his nightmares and break downs. It seemed obvious in hindsight, that something bad must have happened. To see the physical evidence was something else entirely.

 _Do the others know...?_ That was what hit him next, after his thoughts drifted to Ray, wondering what he would do if he found out. Jack and Geoff would know exactly what to do. What to say to Gavin to comfort him. For a moment Michael felt helpless in his anger.

It had been months since Gavin's last job. Right now there was nothing he could do about the people responsible.

_But Gavin is here, now – you can do something about that._

He waited, though. Let himself calm down first – collect his thoughts, because after the shock came the _rage_ and the last thing he wanted was to bust into the bedroom looking like he wanted to punch somebody. When he finally did get up he paused outside the door. Knocked quietly and then, when he got no reply, entered slowly.

“Gavin?”

Gavin was sitting on the bed, back to the wall, knees drawn up. He looked up when Michael entered and there was something very forced about how blank his face was, a mask no less real than Ryan's.

Michael approached slowly. He half expected Gavin to flinch when he got near him, but he didn't. Even shifted over to make room on the bed for him to sit down, back to the wall as well, close enough that their shoulders touched.

It was a moment before Gavin spoke.

“I don't like people seeing,” he said, voice dull. “Makes it seem real, when other people know.”

“Who else does?”

“Ryan. Jack. Geoff.” He huffed out a breath. “Geoff thinks I need to face up to it, but. I don't like seeing them. Pretty bloody pathetic, innit? It's been, what. Eight months by now and I still feel sick to look at myself.”

“It's not pathetic,” Michael replied, carefully.

Gavin turned to look at him, gaze searching as though he was trying to work out whether Michael was lying or not. Michael stared back and after a minute Gavin looked away. Let out another little scoff, though it was self-deprecating more than anything else.

“Is it bad?” Michael asked, nodding towards his shirt – he hadn't caught much of a glimpse but he remembered, now, the way Gavin had pushed him away after the Corpirate's mansion, when he'd tried to check on his ribs. How he always went to another room to get dressed.

“It's bad,” Gavin replied, sharp and quick.

Michael bit his lip.

“The guy who did it,” he started.

“Barry,” Gavin cut in, little more than a whisper.

“Burnie said he was dead.”

“Dan killed him,” Gavin replied. “And everyone who was working with him.” When Michael didn't reply he seemed to sense that he needed the whole story, that he had the individual pieces but wasn't quite sure if he was linking them together right. “He came after us. My team ditched me. Everyone 'cept Dan. He had me for a couple of weeks. It... wasn't fun.”

It didn't appease Michael's simmering anger to know that the man responsible was dead; it would have made him feel better to hunt him down. To make him pay himself. He hoped Dan had killed him slowly.

“Your team were assholes,” he settled on. A small smile tugged at the side of Gavin's mouth.

“Yeah,” he said. “I know.”

They sat in silence for a moment. Gavin kept opening his mouth then closing it again, and Michael waited patiently. When he finally spoke it was hesitant, his fingers picking nervously at the bedspread.

“I trust you guys,” he said. “I do. You've... you've proven so many times that you're not gonna leave me like the others did. Jack and Geoff have helped me so much and... I know you want me to join you. I _want_ to join you, but I just... I don't... the problem isn't with you guys. It's with me. I'm _weak_. You said I wasn't but it's true. I can't sleep unless I'm drugged up. I can't even look at myself – can't even think about what happened or I panic. _I can't get over this._ I'm not... I'm not even angry about it anymore, I'm just _sick_ of it and... and I want to be with you, and Ray, and the others, but how can I know I'm ready for that when I'm not even ready to let go of _this_?”

His voice cracked a little at the end, something desperate and frustrated and _broken_ in it. It hit Michael properly then, the thought of how it must have felt. Weeks alone with Barry, sure that no one was coming. And he remembered – he remembered, suddenly, a job he'd been on, so long ago that he'd nearly forgotten it.

Silence had fallen between them after Gavin's outburst; Michael longed to reach out and touch him but felt it might not be welcome at the moment. He gave him a few minutes to calm down before he spoke again. Kept his eyes trained on the ceiling even as he glimpsed Gavin turning to look at him from the corner of his eye.

“I got into this young, you know, Gavin? Really damn young. I was in over my head.” He grinned a bit. “I was a cocky little prick back then-”

“Still are,” Gavin cut in, and Michael's grin widened.

“Yeah. Anyway, I... there was a job, once, I was working with a bunch of guys. Up against some crime lord. And shit went wrong and I got caught.”

He heard Gavin's breath hitch a little. Turned to him, and _then_ he reached out – then he grabbed his hand, laced their fingers together. A silent reassurance just as it had been back in the mirror maze.

“I can't say it was anything like what you were put through. They barely had me a day. I busted out of there and a couple of the guys I was working with ended up coming back for me anyway. I think they were worried I'd spill on where their hideout was. Anyway, it wasn't too bad. They roughed me up a bit, the usual. Bruises, broken ribs. Nothing that left scars.” He ran his thumb over Gavin's knuckles. Could feel the other's rapt gaze on the side of his face.

“Anyway. I wasn't scared. I probably should've been, but at the time I was just – angry.” He scoffed out something like a laugh; it was always strange, thinking back to how much he'd changed since then. To what he'd been like before he met Ray. “I was always angry back then. But yeah, I was mad, at them, and what they were doing to me, and my team before I realised they'd come back for me – and afterwards when I was healing up? I was angry then too. Too stupid to be scared I suppose.”

“I'm sick of being scared,” Gavin murmured. “I'd take being angry over being scared any day.”

“Yeah, well, my point is, you don't have to,” Michael said. “I'll be angry – I _am_ angry about it for you. And like I said, if anyone tries to hurt you again I'll fuck them up because I-” he broke off. Gavin's eyes were wide and suddenly the words dried up in Michael's throat. Now was not the time, not when Gavin was stressed and upset.

“-care about you,” he finished. “I care about you a lot, and the others do too. Ray. Jack. Geoff. _Ryan_. You said you're worried because you can't let go of what happened – you don't _have to_. Not yet. Us finding out about it? Geoff wanting you to face up to it? You can't pretend it didn't happen, but it's okay to not be okay right now. Just know we're all here and we won't let it happen again. We'll keep you safe while you work through it.”

Gavin was very quiet for a moment, but Michael could see him thinking. He squeezed his hand gently and after a second Gavin squeezed back.

“I'm making progress,” he murmured eventually. “That's what Dan said. I believe it sometimes, but it's... it's hard. When I see the scars. When _you_ guys see them.”

“Me knowing what happened doesn't make it any more real,” Michael replied. “It just makes me _pissed off_ that anyone dared to fuck with you. I'm telling you, if Dan hadn't killed that wanker I'd have shoved a grenade up his ass.”

Gavin huffed out a laugh, and Michael smiled.

“I mean it. Exactly like that cartoon we watched this morning. Stuff some C-4 down his throat and see what happens.”

“You're awful,” Gavin said, but he was laughing properly now. “You're a terrible violent boy.”

“Hey, I'm not the 'nice' in Team Nice Dynamite. I'm the 'dynamite'.” He grinned wider and nudged Gavin's shoulder as he giggled. “Okay?”

“Okay.”

Michael wasn't quite sure what led him to do it. It was barely a conscious choice, just felt like the natural thing to do, and the next thing he knew he was leaning in and gently pressing his lips to Gavin's. He felt the other man go stiff but only for the briefest of moments; almost instantly he was kissing back. His hands rose to Michael's shoulders, gripping firmly, steadying himself against the other man. Holding on like he was an anchor.

There was nothing deeply romantic about it; Michael thought, vaguely, that might be the only reason Gavin actually kissed back. It was not about sex or even, really, about love – somehow, in the moment, it just felt like the right thing to do – the right way to convey to Gavin that he was here for him, that he had his support. That he cared about him. That he wanted to help him move towards being okay.

Gavin pulled back first but didn't let go of Michael's shoulders. Stayed sitting in front of him, head down – he was oddly calm, breathing softly through his nose. After a minute Michael reached up and brushed some hair out of Gavin's eyes.

“This doesn't have to mean anything,” he said quietly – didn't want him to get the wrong idea, to feel pressured – but Gavin looked up at him, then.

“What if I want it to mean something?”

Michael's heart skipped a beat. He stared at him, and after a moment a slow smile tugged at Gavin's lips.

“You mean that?” Michael asked, not quite daring to believe it. “But before you...” he trailed off, and Gavin's smile faded a little.

“I was scared,” he said. He reached out and slipped his hand back into Michael's. “But like I said. I'm sick of being scared. I'm sick of letting it rule me.”

A wide, silly grin spread across Michael's face.

“But you're _sure_?” he couldn't help insisting, still somewhere, deep inside, a little paranoid that maybe Gavin didn't mean it. “It's... it's not just me and Ray, it's all of us – all four of us.”

“I am aware,” Gavin replied drily. “And yes, I'm sure. Or... I want to try, at least,” he added, and Michael nodded, recognising the vulnerability in his voice – the same that had been in his own, and Ray's. And maybe they hadn't had time to really work things out with Jack and Geoff yet, to properly get a feel for how this would all work, but already the knowledge that Gavin would be joining them for the ride was settling something in him, like another missing piece had fallen into place.

“Can I kiss you again, then?” he asked, only half joking, and Gavin flushed a little.

“For proper this time?”

“Yes, 'for proper',” Michael said, rolling his eyes – but rather than replying Gavin reached out. Took Michael's face in his hands and pulled him forward. Michael closed his eyes. Let his own hands fall to Gavin's waist, holding him steady. The kiss still wasn't desperate, their movements slow and languid – the press of lips gentle, steady.

Taking their time.

 

* * *

 

 

“What happened?” Ray asked softly, falling back by Jack's side as they walked back to the cars. The entire cannery had been a bust; the place was obviously abandoned and even if it had once been one of Edgar's hideouts, he evidently hadn't used it for some time.

Jack glanced down at Ray, then at Ryan, striding off up ahead. “No luck.”

“He's not interested?” Ray asked – something confused to it.

Jack shook his head. “Not that – he's scared. Needs more time.”

Ray nodded. He looked concerned, though, eyes tracking Ryan's movements, and Jack couldn't help but smile a little as he remembered that of everyone in the group Ray, too, was a little closer to Ryan than the others. He could see exactly why, too, his laissez-faire attitude towards, well, basically everything – the way he seemed to let most things slide off his back – he could get why that might appeal to Ryan. Things didn't seem to matter so much around Ray.

As it was, Ray seemed to realise that no matter how well founded Ryan's reaction may have been, it had upset Jack a little. He slipped his hand into his, squeezing gently, and Jack looked down at him with a small smile.

They were all a little put out by the cannery being a dead end and travelled back to the house in quiet. When they arrived Ryan walked off on his own immediately, muttering something about keeping watch as he headed to the porch, and Jack couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt for pushing too hard and too fast. He worried suddenly that he might have scared Ryan back into his shell, might have prompted him to pull away from them again.

“Okay?” Geoff asked, coming up by his side as they moved to enter the house.

Jack nodded silently, but a moment later Geoff was pressing a soft kiss to his cheek and he couldn't help but smile, especially when he felt Ray's hand come up to rest on his shoulder behind him as well.

They walked into the living room and stopped dead.

Michael was sitting on the couch, Gavin beside him. Jack felt his mood pick up a little at the mere sight of him, the same way seeing Geoff after a long day always sent a little thrill of relief and happiness through him. His gaze quickly fell, though, on Michael and Gavin's hands, linked together on the couch between them. He heard Ray's little intake of breath beside him as he noticed the same thing.

“Hey guys,” Michael said – and Jack noticed that Gavin was biting his lip, wasn't quite looking at them.

“Hey,” Geoff said, carefully stepping forward. He looked down at their hands, then at the small smile playing at Michael's lips. “Something happen while we were away?”

“That's one way of putting it,” Michael said, and turned to Gavin – he finally looked up and his eyes met Jack's. They were wide and worried and while Jack knew exactly which direction this was going – his heart was already picking up in excitement – he needed the verbal confirmation. But he suddenly remembered the conversation they'd had back in Ryan's apartment, he and Michael and Gav. How he'd mentioned his deep seated fear of rejection. It seemed despite all their reassurances, despite how they'd extended the offer first, actually saying the words was frightening – like he thought they might suddenly pull away, might say they'd made a mistake. That they didn't want him after all.

He stepped forward and took Gavin's other hand. Smiled at him reassuringly.

“You've reconsidered?” he asked, and Gavin nodded.

“Yeah,” he said, hesitantly – then looked over at the rest of them. Seemed to gain confidence when his eyes hit Ray. “Yeah, I... I want to join you guys. If you'll have me.”

“Hmmm, let me think about it,” Geoff started – then yelped as Jack elbowed him, not having missed the brief spark of panic in Gavin's eyes. “Hey! I'm joking, I'm joking. Fuck, Gavin, of course we'll have you. Will _you_ have _us,_ that is the question.”

“He has graciously accepted the offer of our love and sexing,” Michael spoke up, and Gavin spluttered. The tension had broken though, as they laughed – and Geoff was the first to move forward. He pulled Gavin into a hug and dropped a kiss to the top of his head. Didn't move to do anything more, not yet – now more than ever, Jack realised, it was important to take things slowly.

The rest of them crowded in then. Ray moved to kiss Michael then reached out to Gavin, pulling him into a hug as well. Jack kept a hold of his hand, put his other arm around Michael to pull him in as they ended up in a sort of huddle, arms tangled around each other.

He was acutely aware of Ryan's absence suddenly. Looked up and caught Ray's eyes and saw it there too. But for now – for now Geoff was there, a familiar reassuring presence. Michael and Ray under his arms – still new, still working out how they all fit in, but not going anywhere. And Gavin, another missing piece. And despite the earlier disappointments of the day, things felt good, then. Settled. Some of the loose ends tied up.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter's a bit shorter/less actiony, so I'll post it within the next couple of days :)


	21. Chapter 21

Ray kissed Gavin slowly.

It was raining outside, had been all night. The drumming of water against the roof had become a constant, soothing background rhythm, undercut by the occasional rumble of thunder. The house was cold, with its crappy insulation and lack of any proper heating system, but here in the bedroom it was warm under the covers. And Gavin was warm, too, where he was pressed against Ray, lying side by side in the single bed.

There was something comfortable about it; the close proximity and the snug cocoon of blankets around them. How gentle Gavin's touch was when his hand came up to cup Ray's cheek. The languid tranquillity to their movements, something dragging down at Ray slow and treacle-heavy that made him feel out of time, displaced as though the frantic, urgent rush to get Edgar had been laid aside for the moment.

When they finally pulled apart the daze lingered and it took a moment for Ray to come back to himself. The rain had faded into the background but now he became aware of it again. Of the texture of the pillow against his cheek and the coldness of the sheets further down the bed when he stretched his legs out beyond the warmth of where their bodies had been lying.

He opened his eyes slowly to see Gavin grinning at him, and couldn't help but grin back.

He'd been thinking about this far too much over the last few weeks and there was something almost surreal about seeing it in reality now; Gavin's face flushed, lips kiss-bruised, dishevelled hair spread out across the pillow.

“That was nice,” Gavin said, with a soft sort of smile; they'd done nothing more than cuddle earlier, after going to bed and sharing for lack of space in the house, but Ray had been shy to kiss him – didn't want to take things too fast or too suddenly – at least until he woke up to Gavin's arm around his waist and face buried in the crook of his neck.

Ray nodded, reaching out to fix a tuft of the other's hair that was sticking out at a gravity-defying angle.

“Your eyes are pretty,” he commented, struck by the novelty of just how close together their faces were.

A loud retching noise came from the other side of the room.

“Jesus Christ that is sappy,” Michael declared.

Both of them sat up, grinning at him as he came in. There were spots of rain on the fabric of his hoodie and he was rubbing his hands together, moving to jam them under his armpits as he sat down on the edge of the bed.

“It's fucking freezing out there,” Michael continued. He was addressing Ray but after a second his eyes drifted across to Gavin in the bed and he gave a small smile. Ray couldn't help but continue grinning.

Part of him still couldn't quite believe they'd gotten Gavin to join them so quickly, but as he'd expected things felt much better with him there. If anything he felt closer to Michael – to all of them – now that they didn't constantly feel like there was unfinished business hanging over their heads.

He leaned in to kiss Michael only for the other to clap a hand over his face and push him back.

“Brush your teeth first, gross,” Michael started – then laughed when Ray pouted at him. “I'm joking, c'mere.”

“You're an asshole,” Ray grumbled, kissing him quickly before hopping out of bed. He shivered instantly. 'Fucking freezing' was putting it mildly; even indoors he was immediately cold.

He was focused on attempting to get dressed without exposing himself to the air (a process that involved a lot of worming his arms around under his shirt) but it caught his attention when Gavin snatched up his bag and started to leave the room.

“Where are you going?” he asked, spinning around.

Gavin froze and something almost guilty flashed across his face, which had Ray immediately frowning. His bag was slung over his shoulder and he jerked his head towards the door.

“Getting changed.”

“You can...” Ray trailed off a little awkwardly. Was he getting ahead of himself here? Maybe Gavin still didn't feel comfortable enough to get dressed around them, although it shouldn't have been a problem – shouldn't have been weird. Ray'd stripped down in front of strangers before, whether it be to put on body armour or get out of wet or bloodstained clothes. You got over boundaries like that quickly when you worked in jobs like theirs – or, you know, took any sort of gym class.

Gavin just shook his head, forced a smile and left quickly – but not before exchanging an almost panicked look with Michael, who shut the door behind him. When he turned back towards Ray there was an odd frown on his face and Ray immediately knew that he knew something he didn't.

“What's going on?” he asked.

Michael just bit his lip, looking conflicted. Ray pulled his arms through the sleeves of his jacket and stepped closer to him.

“Michael?” he pressed. “Did I move too fast? I figured since we, y'know, just cuddled together all night that he wouldn't exactly have a problem with me taking my shirt off in front of him. Hell, he's seen me do it before.”

“It's not that,” Michael replied. He glanced at the door Gavin had left through before shaking his head. “I don't...”

“What?”

“We didn't really talk about whether or not it was meant to be a secret,” he started, and Ray's frown deepened in confusion. After a second Michael let out a huff of breath.

“Fuck it. He's got some scars he doesn't like people seeing. You can ask him for the full story later on, it's probably not my place to tell, unless he'd rather it come from me. You didn't do anything wrong, though.”

“Scars?” Ray asked, his heart sinking a little. He'd known something pretty bad must have happened. Michael hadn't talked about how exactly he'd changed Gavin's mind about joining the relationship. Another thought struck him. “Do all the others know about this?”

Michael nodded.

“Ryan too?” Ray demanded, and Michael nodded again. He stepped forward and ran a hand down Ray's arm.

“I didn't find out until yesterday, and only by accident. Like I said, he doesn't like people seeing. Leave it for now, okay? I'll talk to him first and let him know I told you. Next move's on him.”

Ray nodded, a little reluctantly. Michael's face softened and he leaned in and kissed Ray properly. Didn't pull back until the tension had leached from his shoulders a little.

“Hey. Baby steps, right?”

“Right,” Ray said, and gave him a small smile.

Michael nodded. “I'll go check on him,” he said then, and left Ray alone.

He finished dressing quickly, layering up against the cold, and when he left the room it was to find Geoff and Jack lurking around outside. They beamed when they saw him, Geoff grabbing him to swoop him backwards into a kiss.

“What was that for?” he laughed, when he was released – couldn't help the grin it had brought to his face. It might have been a couple of days now but the little thrill of excitement was still there, rising up whenever he looked at the two of them and remembered, _hey, I'm a part of it now_.

“Just because,” Geoff replied. “I missed you since last night!”

Ray smiled again. They still tended to split up at night into Jack-and-Geoff and Ray-and-Michael. Gavin had joined him last night because they'd room-shared before and it was more familiar to them. A small part of him wanted badly to move things faster with Geoff and Jack, but he was inherently cautious of rushing things in case something went wrong.

Still.

“Maybe I'll have to join you guys tonight then,” he found himself saying – and Jack and Geoff exchanged a glance before beaming widely.

 

* * *

 

Despite the tiny hiccup that morning, Ray couldn't help but notice at breakfast that Gavin was ten times happier today than he had been for the last few weeks. It had been a slow deterioration, he realised now – ever since he'd been taken by Edgar he'd been quieter, and things had taken a steady downhill turn since he realised Ray and Michael liked him and started pulling away.

But now – now it seemed he was more sure of himself. He was smiling and laughing, engaged in some sort of friendly argument with Michael about cereal. It was far more like the way he'd acted when they first started working together, before everything really went to shit, and Ray couldn't help but smile at it. He'd missed that Gavin, the one he'd been first immediately attracted to.

“Heyman call in yet?” Ryan asked, after a spell.

They all turned to him and there was a slightly awkward moment. He was sitting at the head of the table, markedly distant from the rest of them, and Ray frowned a bit, feeling a sudden pang.

It wasn't as though they'd made some sort of official announcement to Ryan yesterday that, hey, they were all together now! But there was no way he hadn't noticed; Michael had kissed Gavin yesterday in the living room and Geoff had too. There was something closed off about how Ryan sat away from them now. The mask wasn't helping, either.

Geoff nodded. “He's started contacting all the mercenaries Edgar hired from him. Most of them will leave. A few haven't gotten back to him, some refused. Guess Edgar offered them something better. But there shouldn't be more than we can handle now.”

Michael nodded approvingly. “All that's left is to hunt down the son of a bitch, then.”

“Gavin?” Jack prompted, turning to him.

Gavin bit his lip. “I've been looking for him for over a month now and I'm just not coming up with anything,” he said. “The locations we got from Clarence are all for his safe houses, storage units, stuff like that. His proper base is well buried.”

“We could draw him out again?” Geoff suggested.

Ryan shook his head. “With all his mercs gone he won't fall for our bait. There's no way he'll come out himself.”

“When you can't find information on someone,” Gavin mused, “You look at the people close to them.”

“Who's close to Edgar?” Jack asked, frowning.

“There's no way his regular henchmen will know where his base of operations is,” Gavin said. “Mark Nutt didn't know much at all. And Clarence didn't keep anything on him apart from info about their hideouts. But the others we've been taking down... they'd've known, surely.”

“Except for the part where we fucking killed them all already,” Michael said, and Gavin rolled his eyes.

“Well, _yes_ , Michael, but that doesn't mean everything went with them. The Corpirate's place,” he said, a touch nervously. “If we went back there... I don't know. There might be something. Assuming Edgar hasn't gone and cleared it out yet.”

“He might have,” Ryan said. “He's careful.”

“It can't hurt to check,” Geoff declared. “It's not like we have any other leads right now. It's that or wait for _Edgar_ to make a move, which is not preferable.”

Ryan nodded. “I imagine it'll take Heyman another few days to finish pulling back all those mercenary contracts too. We need to allocate some time for that.”

“ _Allow_ -cate!” Gavin exclaimed, and all the rest of them burst out sniggering.

Ryan glared at them, suddenly almost self-conscious. “What?”

“It's pronounced _allo-cate_ , you dope,” Gavin said.

“Whatever,” Ryan said, obviously embarrassed. “I don't want to hear that from you, Gavin. Get back to me when you learn how to pronounce the letter 'T'.”

“What do you mean?” Gavin cried, indignantly. “I can pronounce 'T' just fine. Like... like _tater tot._ See, I did it just then.”

“You drop it from the middle of words _constantly_ ,” Ryan grumbled. He affected a rather high pitched attempt at a British accent. “ _Ta'er to'!_ _Alloca'e! Wa'er! Ci'y! Ooooh!_ ”

By this point their laughter had switched from being directed at Ryan to Gavin, and he flushed bright red.

“You're a right prick, Ryan.”

“ _You're a righ' prick, Ry-an_ ,” Ryan mimicked again, and Gavin shot him the finger. He glared about at the rest of them.

“Why are you letting him get away with this? Some boyfriends you are! Defend me!”

“Sorry, princess,” Geoff laughed, reaching out to ruffle his hair. “He's spot on though.”

“You all suck,” Gavin grumbled, folding his arms, but Ray was stuck on his earlier words. How easily 'boyfriends' had slipped from his mouth. It probably wasn't something to marvel at – they _were,_ after all – he'd just figured for some reason that Gavin might be reluctant to say it out loud, to establish it so solidly. Seemed not.

“We're in agreement then?” Jack asked, steering them back on track. “Back to the Corpirate's today?”

They all nodded. It felt good to have a starting point.

 

* * *

  

The house they were staying in now was actually closer to the Corpirate's mansion than Geoff's first safe-house had been. Nevertheless, it took a little while to get there because of the weather. It was pouring buckets, the rain not having lightened up in the slightest all morning. The storm was right on them now too, thunder and lightning ringing out every few minutes.

Ray vaguely remembered the pictures Gavin had shown them of the place back when they were first planning to infiltrate it. Now, as they pulled up the road leading to the manor, he realised it was barely recognisable. The illustrious front gardens had been reduced to a barren square of blackened land, and part of the building was little more than a burnt-out shell.

“I'm guessing we wreaked havoc on the real estate price,” Michael muttered at the sight, and Gavin gave a little scoff.

Ray was soaked the minute he stepped out of the car. He pulled his hood up, yanking it low over his eyes to avoid getting his glasses wet, and practically sprinted over to the cover of the veranda. His sneakers sloshed through several inches of water that had already accumulated on the drive.

The others crowded in under the shelter too, and Ryan tested the door. It was locked, but a hefty kick quickly broke them in.

The place was deserted.

They'd scoped it out before driving up but any doubts they may have had were quickly alleviated. There was something quite spooky about the emptiness of the giant house as they walked into the main hall. Things seemed to have been left in a rush; there was rubbish littered across the floor – fallen glasses, paper plates and napkins from the party that had been so hastily abandoned. Many of the windows were broken, the once-cream walls blackened from smoke and soot.

There was a terrible smell in the air, lingering charcoal and a sweet sort of rot that Ray immediately identified as decomposing human bodies.

Beside him Gavin gagged, doubling over, and five pairs of hands instantly went to pat him on the back.

“What's the plan of attack, Gav?” Geoff asked, passing him a bottle of water.

Gavin took it gratefully. He was breathing pointedly through his mouth now, and Ray frowned a little. He seemed very tense and he abruptly realised that his memories of this place likely were not very pleasant.

“Split up,” he said. “The Corpirate's office is on the second floor, if I recall. Shouldn't have been touched by the fire; it's on the other end of the building. I'll go see if there's anything still on his computer. The rest of you check out the rest of the house.”

“I'll go with you,” Jack said firmly, “Just in case.”

Geoff nodded. “We should stay in pairs.” They hadn't brought earpieces, seeing as they were looking for information rather than pulling a heist. “R n' R, you guys take upstairs. Michael and I will check out the rest of the grounds.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Ray said, glancing at Ryan.

And with that they split up. He fell back next to Ryan as they headed for the stairs, watching him carefully. Like Gavin, he'd gone tense and quiet when they entered the house. Ray remembered Michael telling him how Edgar showing up had made Ryan freak out. Turn cold and hard and abandon Gavin without a second thought.

They'd come so far since then. He couldn't picture the Ryan beside him doing anything like that now.

Most of the upper level of the house was untouched by the fire, but the smell of rotting bodies was stronger there. Ryan made his way confidently down the corridor, Ray trailing behind him, and pushed open a door.

“Oh, Jesus,” Ray said, raising his sleeve to cover his mouth. He coughed, frantically trying to get the horrible stench out of his lungs.

“As I expected,” Ryan said, not sounding even remotely strained, “No one's been on clean-up duty.”

Ray peered out from behind him. The Corpirate's body lay sprawled out on the balcony. It was in a terrible state, thanks to a combination of the time since he'd been killed and its exposure to the elements. The smell was going to his head now, and he genuinely began to think he might throw up.

Ryan glanced at him and then, after a moment, put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. The contact grounded him and he leaned into the touch.

“Okay?” Ryan asked.

Ray swallowed a few times and nodded. “Yeah. It's fucking gross though.”

“Come on, let's get rid of it.”

The last thing Ray wanted was to get closer to the body, but he pushed aside his nausea and forced himself to.

Ryan paused, looking discompassionately down at the man.

“His clothes have been turned out,” he observed. “Edgar must have taken everything he could off the body when he was here. Let's hope he didn't get everything on the computer or we're shit out of luck.”

He bent and grabbed the body, heaving it upright. It was falling apart already, skin slipping and splitting in several places, and Ray tried not to look as he helped Ryan heft the corpse over the edge of the balcony to land on the ground below.

Thus disposed of, they headed back inside, forcing open the ruined balcony to at least attempt to get some ventilation in the room. They began to search, rifling through closets and drawers for anything that might be remotely useful.

Ryan still seemed pensive, and Ray bit his lip. _Should I say something about it?_

A month ago he wouldn't have dared to pry into Ryan's business. But now, as he observed the hunch of his shoulders, the stiffness in his spine, it seemed wrong not to.

“He doesn't hold it against you,” he said, and Ryan glanced over at him.

“Who doesn't hold what against me?”

“Gavin. For what happened here. He likes you a lot and if he really still blamed you... he wouldn't.”

“I know,” Ryan said, something very tired in it. “We've worked it all out already, Ray, don't worry about it.”

“Oh. Okay.” He tilted his head. “You seem upset, is all.”

Ryan didn't reply and Ray turned back to searching. He expected the conversation to end there, but to his surprise Ryan spoke up a few minutes later.

“It's hard. Who I was back then... it's not that far gone. I still want to kill Edgar. By God I want to kill him. But not at the expense of Gav. Not...” he paused, hesitant, then pushed on. “Not at the expense of any of you. And it's... I hate myself for it, but sometimes I still think it might be easier if I didn't care. If I could just go after him with all I've got and not have to worry about you guys getting hurt.”

“Ryan...”

“It's terrible of me, I know.”

“It's not terrible,” Ray assured him. He closed the drawer he'd been looking in and crossed over to him. After a moment, he rested a hand on his shoulder. “It's not terrible. It's... human.”

Ryan huffed out something like a laugh. “An unfortunate defect of mine.”

“Shut up,” Ray said. “You're not a machine.”

“Might as well be.”

“Jesus Christ, dude.” He didn't know what to do or say to that except rub Ryan's shoulder until he eventually turned to face him.

“You know what it's like,” Ryan said. “Changing things with Michael... with all the rest of them. You have far more to lose now than you ever did before.”

“Yeah,” Ray said, quietly. “And I can't lie, it scares me. But that's just how it is. When you love people you can get hurt. But it's worth it. Or at least it is for me.”

Ryan nodded. He turned back to the tallboy he was examining and Ray moved off to return to what he'd been doing. He didn't like the idea of ending the conversation there for some reason. He wondered if Ryan was still thinking about Jack's offer to him. If he was plagued with it the way Ray had been after Michael asked him to consider Geoff and Jack. If in his mind he'd secretly begun imagining what it might be like to be with them.

If he'd thought about what it might be like to kiss Ray.

“Who was the last person you dated?” he blurted out.

There was a horribly awkward silence. He didn't dare turn to look at Ryan. Suddenly his heart was pounding too fast and too hard. He realised with a sudden ache that he wanted it too much; wanted Ryan to respond to him. Wanted Ryan to join them as soon as possible. It was a selfish sort of impatience that he was disgusted with himself for but couldn't quite let go of.

“There was no last person,” Ryan replied. “Not since high school, anyway.”

Ray relaxed, marginally – he'd worried the other would sound cold and closed off, angry even – but he didn't. Just a little stiff, almost nervous.

“I mean, that makes sense,” Ray said. “Same here – before Michael I didn't really... it's hard, in this sort of job, to see someone properly. Even at school I didn't... I mean, look at me, I'm a total nerd.”

“Some girls dig nerds,” Ryan replied, with a little, relieved sort of laugh, obviously glad that the weight of the question had dropped a little. “Some _boys_ dig nerds.”

“Not the ones where I'm from,” Ray chuckled. “So before this, you...?”

“I saw people occasionally,” Ryan said, sounding a little more at ease now. “Never seriously. Never more than once.”

“So this is...” and Ray trailed off for a minute, swallowing. The word _love_ was still too heavy. “This... this is sort of a first for you?”

Ryan went very silent again.

“It was for me,” Ray found himself babbling, “With Michael. But it wasn't hard, for some reason. Maybe because we'd known each other so long. It was different with Gavin. I was... I'd barely worked out that I _did_ love Michael let alone...”

He dared to glance at Ryan to find him shaking his head.

“Am I wrong?” Ray asked then, suddenly nervous. “Is there... is there not a ' _this_ ' at all?”

“There's definitely a 'this',” Ryan assured him. And then groaned, reaching up under his mask to rub his face. “And yeah, it's a first.”

“I wasn't sure,” Ray admitted. “About the rest of us, I mean. I know you like Gavin.”

The mention of Gavin made Ryan stiffen again.

“I hope you don't mind,” Ray continued. “You know... us sort of jumping in on him.”

“Why should I mind?” Ryan snapped. “I don't own him.”

“I know,” Ray said. “I didn't – I didn't mean it that way.”

As quickly as he'd gotten annoyed Ryan calmed down again.

“I know,” he replied, “Sorry. I'm glad, actually, that Gavin trusts you enough to join in on this... thing. It says a lot about how much he's recovering.”

“For sure,” Ray agreed. But he couldn't help thinking, _what about you? What about how much you're recovering?_

“And the rest of you... it's brave,” Ryan said. “Not even just because of the danger, the threats, but... risking your relationship with Michael. Letting yourself get that much closer to Jack and Geoff. Change like that is brave.”

“It's brave to risk your chances of killing Edgar to keep us safe,” Ray replied, quietly, and Ryan looked away.

“Perhaps,” was all he said.

Ray wasn't sure why he felt almost disappointed when they both turned back to searching, the conversation over. He wasn't sure what he'd expected to get out of it. Something bigger, he supposed – some marked progression in Ryan's feelings that indicated he was stepping closer to agreeing to join them.

Or not even that. Some indication of his feelings towards Ray himself, Ray in _particular_ – he needed that, he realised suddenly. Because he'd still not had time, yet, to properly work things out with Jack and Geoff. Geoff he felt a little closer to given that the man had kissed him first, had been so frantic about his safety back on the train. But Jack he only knew in the context of the relationship as a whole – if Jack did care about him it seemed to be as part of Ray-and-Michael. Which wasn't true, he knew, but without having properly having some one-on-one time with him, it still felt a little that way.

And Gavin – Gavin had kissed, him, sure. Had spent the whole night with him. But so far it had mostly been a matter of him accepting their affections rather than directly extending any of his own. Ryan was still the only one he'd made a proper, active move on.

And Ray knew, _knew_ that it was a matter of time and building trust and he couldn't expect to rush things, but suddenly he wanted it. Wanted Ryan to at least show that he liked him. Not even that he wanted to join the five of them, but that he liked _Ray_. Wanted to be with him.

Biting his lip, he shook it off, wondering why the thought had upset him so suddenly. _Focus on the job at least, while you're here_ , he thought, and gritting his teeth he did just that.

 

* * *

  

“Are you okay?” Jack asked quietly.

He rested a gentle hand on Gavin's back as they headed up to the second storey. Lightning flashed outside, painting the corridor white for a split second. It made Gavin jump, from general nerves more than it being a particular shock.

“Yeah,” he replied.

It wasn't a lie.

In all honesty, he'd thought it would be much harder to come back here. The whole car ride over he'd been steeling himself for the panic he'd thought would rise up the minute he stepped foot back inside the mansion.

But it had never come, and it didn't take a genius to work out that it was thanks to the men he was travelling with.

God he'd been scared yesterday, when things came to a sudden head. He could tell Geoff's slip-up had been accidental, that they hadn't meant to make the offer to him quite that soon, but at the same time it only reinforced the fact that they were dead serious about it. That they really did want him to join them.

And he'd been ready, even then – he could see that now. Ready to say yes. All it took in the end was that little push from Michael.

It had been the right choice.

He'd been half afraid that taking that leap of faith would trigger something, but last night with Ray had been the best night's sleep he'd had without medication in a long time. And here, with the others, he didn't feel anxious even at the memories of the danger he'd been in the last time he was here. With Jack beside him – and the knowledge that the others weren't too far away – he felt _safe_. Found that he trusted them without a doubt to take care of him.

And with his initial reservations steadily fading away he found himself feeling oddly _happy_ – the future had not been something he liked to think about since Barry. He hadn't been able to imagine ever getting himself out of that rut, but now he found he couldn't wait for this job to finish so they could work out things properly. He had seen a lot of things in his time spying on people but five people in one relationship was definitely something new. Something different – something _exciting_.

Oddly enough it was Jack who he felt most unsure around. Michael and Ray he'd had time to think about, and Geoff had already kissed him last night – but Jack hadn't made much of a move yet, and he knew the other man was trying to take things slowly.

Part of him appreciated that. Another part of him – the part that had pushed him yesterday to kiss Michael back, to let himself join the others – was tired of slowly.

He didn't know how to approach Jack, though. Was too scared to just grab him and kiss him out of nowhere, or tell him straight out how much he meant to him. Because he did mean a lot – he liked Jack – liked the other man's softness and care and how he would always look over at Gavin when they were out in the field or even just travelling to make sure he was okay. He liked how he always laughed at his own jokes – at Gavin's, too – how he always let their teasing roll off his back. Everything about it made something entirely too warm and sappy well up in Gavin's chest.

But he couldn't say it – deep down that burning fear of rejection still remained, always had. Part of him was still a little paranoid that they might all realise this was some sort of mistake, that four had already been too fragile and five was one too many. That had been the secondary reason he'd been reluctant to say yes immediately.

“Mind the drip,” Jack said, steering him sideways.

The roof was damaged from the fire and water was leaking through from the heavy rain outside. Gavin jerked back to attention, ducking out of the way to avoid getting wet.

They'd reached the office by now, and he opened the door cautiously, half expecting to find the place ransacked.

It wasn't. Everything was as he remembered it from the security cameras; documents stacked neatly on the desk, filing cabinets untouched. It _was_ very dark, though – there was no power throughout the whole mansion and the bad weather outside meant there was very little daylight to go by. Still, they made do, Jack switching on his torch to supplement the meagre light filtering through the window as Gavin moved over to the computer.

“There's no power,” Jack said.

“Thanks, Captain Obvious Pattillo!” Gavin crouched by the computer and reached out to unplug it. “Look for a laptop, will you? I'll take the hard drive from here and have a look at it when we get back to the house.”

“Ahh, that's a good idea.” Jack turned away to search, and Gavin bit his lip. _You should say something._ He wasn't sure what 'something' was. Some measure of his appreciation, affection – but it seemed awkward, to just proclaim it out of nowhere.

He pulled the computer box out from under the desk and struggled to open it. He could have done with a screwdriver, but for lack of one prised it open bare-handed and fumbled to get the hard drive out. He didn't realise his hands were shaking until Jack's own hands closed over them, warm and reassuring.

“Hey,” the other man said, softly, as he crouched down beside him. “You okay? What's up?”

“Nothing,” Gavin replied. He dropped the parts he was holding and folded his hands together until they stopped trembling. Jack didn't let go of him. “I'm fine, I don't... I don't know why they're doing that. I'm not scared.”

And he wasn't – he _wasn't_ – it was just another of those things out of his control. Perhaps not something as vivid as the nightmares, or the anxiety, but something small and subtle. Like the way he couldn't walk down street blocks alone in the dark any more, the way he flinched still sometimes when things moved too fast around him. He wasn't about to panic now, but his body was still reacting to his memories of this place. The smell of smoke. The thought of the duck lurking the halls out there.

 _She's dead_ , he told himself firmly. The way he'd reassured Michael.

“I'm not scared,” he repeated. “It's just, like, a reaction. I don't know. I bloody well wish they wouldn't do that.”

“Okay,” was all Jack said. He let go of his hand, but Gavin made no move to continue what he'd been doing. Took a moment to just sit, breathing, suddenly lethargic. Exhausted under the burden of all the shit he'd been carrying around. Hated himself for it because _get over it, get over it, you should be bloody well over it by now_.

After a minute Jack put his arms around him, not quite hugging him but just _holding_ him – and Gavin relaxed into the embrace. Let his body fall back against Jack's chest. It was cold in the house, drafts of freezing air coming in through the broken study windows. But Jack was very warm.

Again he felt it, that overwhelming _safeness_. It made a smile tug at his lips.

Jack got back up after a minute and they resumed their work, but the weight dragging Gavin down had alleviated somewhat. This whole time he'd been scared that other people knowing what had happened would make it heavier, bear down on him more – but on the contrary, since he'd let Michael in it had almost been easier.

 _We'll keep you safe while you work through it_. It was a promise he found he could trust.

“Thank you,” he said.

That was easy to say, even if it was charged with something else, and across the room Jack looked up.

Gavin could see his unspoken question – _for what?_ \- he swallowed a few times, his mouth suddenly very dry. Dug his fingers into the circuit boards before him until the sharp metal edges bit into his flesh.

“For everything, I mean,” he continued. “I know I... wasn't easy to get along with at first, back at the start-”

“Jesus Christ, Gav, don't bring that up.” Jack dropped what he'd been doing and came to crouch beside him again.

“It's true, though,” Gavin said. “But you've been really kind and I appreciate it and I... I feel safe, with you.” He looked up at Jack, hoping he'd understand everything he was trying to convey even if he couldn't quite find the right words to say it. _I know you care about me. I care about you. I..._

Jack's face softened. He reached forward. Put his hands on Gavin's knees, stared at him intently but made no move to lean in. But he didn't pull back, either, and Gavin realised, then, that Jack wanted him to be the one to make the first move. To be the one to act – to get over that irrational fear of rejection.

His heart slammed in his chest as he forced himself to look up, to meet Jack's eyes. There was nothing but a soft love in them, something calm and reassuring. Jack gave a small smile and Gavin tentatively smiled back before leaning forward.

Kissing Jack was strange; it seemed to ground him, somehow. Made his worries fade out and his focus turn to the little details. The thundering beat of rain against the walls. The heavy press of Jack's hands against his knees. He could feel their warmth through the fabric of his jeans. The tickle of beard against his chin and the way Jack's glasses pressed against his nose slightly. Everything about it was reassuring; Jack's gentle strength, his solid supporting presence.

When they pulled apart Gavin felt oddly calm, and something about that felt a bit off. He realised suddenly that it had been like that with all of them – Michael. Geoff. Ray this morning. Everything slow and gentle and sweet.

And that was fine – he liked that – but he thought of Ryan, suddenly, the two kisses they had shared. How different they had been. The frantic passion behind them. Suddenly an odd empty sort of ache started up in the pit of his stomach and-

_Stupid, stupid-_

_How can you be thinking of Ryan when Jack's_ right here _? You selfish, selfish fuck_ -

“Gavin?” Jack's voice was worried. He squeezed Gavin's knees and it was only then that he realised he was breathing too fast, had covered his face with his hands. “What's wrong?”

“I'm sorry, sorry-”

“Sorry about what? Gav?” Jack gently pulled his hands from his face. “What happened?”

Part of him didn't want to admit it, didn't want Jack to misunderstand and think he wasn't enough for him. But he couldn't lie, not with the other man staring at him so earnestly.

“I thought of Ryan,” he admitted, in a small voice.

“Oh,” was all Jack said, “Is that all?”

“You're not mad?”

“Why would I be?” Jack asked. At Gavin's flabbergasted look, he gave a brief laugh. “It's not like I don't think about him all the time as well.”

“But we have all the others.”

“It didn't feel right without you,” Jack pointed out. “And Ryan too. And hell, maybe we're doing this all wrong – maybe we should have waited a few months, adjusted to Ray and Michael first before even thinking about adding someone else. Maybe this is all happening too fast. But I don't know. If it feels right... if we're all in agreement... it's not like any of us have ever made a habit of following the rules, anyway.”

Gavin just stared at him and Jack laughed again, reaching out to chuck him under the chin.

“Stop looking so worried, Jesus. Where'd that smile go? We know you like Ryan. And all the rest of us do too, so. We'll wait and we'll figure it out together.”

His easy acceptance had a surge of affection welling up in Gavin's chest and before he quite knew what he was doing he'd grasped the front of Jack's shirt and was tugging him forward to press their lips together again. There was something a little more frantic in it this time, a little more passionate, and even if it was brief they were both still breathing heavily when they pulled apart.

“I don't just like Ryan,” Gavin said. Forced himself to meet Jack's eyes as he admitted it. “I know it... might seem like it, like I hang around him the most or whatever. But I like you a lot too.”

“You like me a lot too,” Jack repeated, and Gavin flushed, realising how silly it sounded, how juvenile. But Jack just cupped his cheek before laughing again. “Thanks. The feeling is mutual.”

“Good,” Gavin said, flustered.

His heart was slamming in his chest as Jack turned away to finally resume searching again, chuckling – but from relief more than any sort of nerves. Relief that he'd reached out at last, connected with Jack – been able to at least show him how much he cared about him.

 _I can do that now_ , he realised suddenly. _Get... get close to the others. Kiss them or just, talk to them or... anything. Whenever I want. Whenever I'm_ ready.

The thought had the smile back on his face, something bright and wide that he was wearing more and more these days. It was getting easier. It was getting _better_.

 

* * *

 

“We did way more damage than I anticipated,” Michael mused.

Geoff glanced over at him. They were on the ground floor of the building moving into the burnt out areas. The place was a wreck; the fire had devastated the kitchens and most of the east wing. Geoff's shoes crunched through rubble and ash as he picked his way down one of the devastated corridors. He was half afraid the whole building would collapse around their ears in a minute.

“You set the fucking house on _fire_ ,” he pointed out. “What did you think would happen?”

“Good point,” Michael conceded.

They paused in what had once been the doorway to the kitchens. Despite having been the starting point of the fire, it was remarkably untouched; the walls were in ruins but the tiled floors and metal work benches remained intact, if severely scorched. Michael looked around and swallowed, hard. There was an odd look on his face and Geoff reached out and pressed his arm.

“Alright?”

“I'm fine.” He glanced across and forced a grin. “It's just weird seeing it in person. When we... when _they_ were here last time I was just watching on the security cams, you know? It's kind of strange actually being here.”

Geoff nodded.

Michael turned away, scuffing a foot across the ashy floor. “He was really scared,” he said, quietly.

“You must have been too,” Geoff commented.

Michael looked up at him, seeming confused. “I wasn't the one in danger.”

“Being unable to help while someone else is? That's nearly as bad,” Geoff said. “Makes you feel helpless.”

Michael raised and lowered a shoulder.

“There's nothing here,” he said then, changing the subject, and Geoff nodded. They turned away from the kitchens and continued along the burnt out hall until they reached the door. They exited onto the back patio and stood watching the rain come down in sheets around them. Every now and then lightning flared around them like a flash bulb followed only seconds later by deep growls of thunder. Geoff looked over at Michael to find him zipping his jacket up, pulling it tighter around him, and stepped across to put an arm over his shoulders, tucking him in close under his side.

He made a little startled noise, but after a second looked up at Geoff and grinned.

“Thanks.”

“No worries. Fucking bad weather.”

“You're telling me.”

Geoff looked down to find streaks of soot and ash washing past his feet in the rivulets of rain water that had made their way into the house through the ruined roof. He shifted his shoes out of the way so they wouldn't get dirty, and Michael followed his gaze before huffing out a sigh.

“What?” Geoff asked.

“Like I said,” Michael repeated. “It's just... weird, being back here.”

Geoff caught on quickly. “Is this about Ryan?”

Michael's silence was answer enough, and Geoff bit his lip.

He and Michael were the odd ones out here. Because little needed to be said about Gavin and Ryan's relationship, and Ray and Jack had been quick to get close to him as well. He'd let them in far sooner than he had Geoff and Michael – _if he's even let you in at all,_ the treacherous thought whispered, but Geoff forced it away.

_He has. He has. You've seen his fucking face, haven't you?_

The point remained; it wasn't hard for Geoff to doubt whether Ryan wanted to be with him. Of course the man wanted to be with Gavin. Jack too, and probably Ray as well.

But this thing – the five of them – it was vastly out of the ordinary and truth be told, despite his outward facade of confidence he felt a little out of his depth.

That they all cared about each other was a certainty. But there was a difference between that and entering into a, a proper _relationship_ – and maybe it hadn't felt like one yet because things had happened so quickly, but Geoff... Geoff _loved_ Michael and Ray. Just as much as he loved Jack – the connection to his first boyfriend held stronger only due to the sheer length of time they'd been together.

The same went for Gavin. He wanted, wanted, _wanted_ this to last – and it was early days, he shouldn't be scared about this falling apart at all – but _Ryan_. Ryan hung over his head, lurked anxious at the back of his mind, because he desperately needed to know how the other man felt about him.

Since seeing his face, he had fit the other man far more easily into his imaginings, the _what-ifs_ he played out in his mind every night. It helped that Jack was so fond of him. And Geoff felt an odd protectiveness towards the other man – not in the same way he felt protective of Gavin, because Ryan could more than take care of himself, but... there was a lonely sort of vulnerability to him that Geoff had picked up on, his self-imposed isolation making him unhappy in a way he longed to remedy. Relationships had always been important to him – his crew had never been anything other than a family – so seeing Ryan so alone, no matter his protests, made Geoff want to reach out.

When he'd seen him in danger, back when they were getting the gold to Joel and the pig had struck – the panic he'd felt had been the same panic that lurched in his chest at Ray being threatened on the train. The striking realisation that if something happened to him Geoff would not be able to just get over it. It all pointed to one thing but he didn't know – didn't _know_ – if it went just one way.

Letting out a huff of breath, he squeezed his arm tighter around Michael's shoulders.

“We only just let in Gavin.”

“I know,” Michael snapped, a little too fast. “We shouldn't... we shouldn't take this faster.” It sounded like an excuse, like he didn't like the taste of the words in his mouth, and Geoff sighed.

“I don't like it,” he said, and Michael looked up at him in surprise.

“I don't like waiting,” Geoff repeated. “I don't... I _want_ to take things faster. To just have Ryan in and be the six of us and see... see how that feels. How we can make this work.”

To his surprise, Michael laughed, relaxing into his side a little.

“You do? Thank God, I thought it was just me being an impatient fuck.”

“Pretty sure we're all impatient fucks,” Geoff said.

Michael snorted. “True that. I don't know, it's just... being here, remembering how he was before... he's changed so much. We all have. Who'd've known this was how he we'd all turn out at the end of this.”

“If you'd told me I'd get three new boyfriends out of chasing down some lunatic in a cow mask who's trying to kill us all I'd've laughed in your face,” Geoff agreed, but Michael was already barrelling on, spewing thoughts as they came to him, it seemed.

“It just sucks. Knowing how much Ryan cares about us – and he does, he's admitted it and shown it and what fucking ever but. But he won't let himself act on it and I _know_ he has his reasons but... I don't know. Look at Gavin. Look how much happier he is now. I thought we might be taking that too fast but he's... he's doing so much better. I mean, it's only been one night but he was so quiet before and now it's like he's done a heel face turn back to normal.” He sighed, reaching up to rub his face. “Like I said. It's selfish of me to want to push him.”

“You're fine,” Geoff assured him. “The ball's in his court now. All we can do is wait.”

Michael nodded.

They stood in silence, tucked together against the buffeting winds. Geoff turned to look around the grounds and his eyes fell upon a garage across the other side of the car park. He nudged Michael and pointed.

“There was nothing in the house. Let's check there.”

“It'll be a bitch running through the rain,” Michael replied, but nodded. “Okay, let's go.”

Bracing themselves against the wind, they exchanged a glance before sprinting across the car park. Geoff nearly slipped on the wet tarmac, sloshing through a good few inches of water by now, and let out a rather girlish shriek. Michael cracked up at the sound, nearly falling over himself before they finally reached the garage and ducked frantically in through the open door. Even that short run had them both wringing wet and they looked at each other for about two seconds before breaking down laughing.

“Your fucking _moustache_ ,” Michael sniggered, doubling over and bracing his hands on his knees.

Geoff pouted. “Hey, don't you laugh at the 'stache! Your hair's no better.”

“Sorry, sorry. It's just gone all... droopy, it looks really sad.”

“It _is_ sad. It's sad because you insulted it.”

“Sorry,” Michael said again, and reached out to try and tweak the ends up again. It didn't work, they were too wet, and he quickly gave up, turning away with a final snicker.

The garage was empty, all the vehicles having been stolen in the wake of the fire or presumably collected by Edgar afterwards. Still they wandered about, looking for clues or anything that could be remotely helpful.

“Hey,” Geoff said after a bit, pointing up at the ceiling. “Security cams. All the ones in the house got done in but this is fine. Might have something on it Gav can use.”

Michael nodded, crossing over to Geoff from the other side of the garage.

“Good call,” he said, but he sounded distracted and his eyes were fixed on Geoff's face, staring at him. Geoff turned to him with raised eyebrows.

“Enjoying the view?” he asking, posing slightly. “I know, I'm a real fucking Adonis.”

Michael scoffed, looking almost embarrassed, a flush rising to his cheeks as he glanced away.

“Really though, what are you staring at? Something on my face?”

“Besides that abomination under your nose?” Michael teased. “Nothing, I was just... am I not allowed to look at my own boyfriend?”

The word made something swell in Geoff's chest, something that warmed him despite the frigid temperature in the concrete room. He reached out and grabbed the front of Michael's jacket, tugging him forward until he was within reach before leaning forward and kissing him.

Michael made a small, pleased noise against his lips. They were both cold and wet and shivering slightly, but Geoff barely noticed as he brought his hands up to rest on Michael’s waist. And they'd kissed a few times by this point, but there was still a novelty to it, an excitable sort of thrill.

“What's gonna happen after this?” Michael asked, breathless but quiet when they pulled apart.

Geoff raised his eyebrows. “I'm not about to fuck you in the Corpirate's garage if thats what you're thinking.”

Michael barked out a startled laugh, going a bit red again. “No! I mean, after _this_ , after all of this. When Ray and Gav and I go back with you, are we... will people know?”

Geoff bit his lip.

“We're not gonna advertise it or anything,” he replied. “We'll tell the crew and everyone else will realise eventually. But we won't keep it a secret – not unless you want us to.”

“Nah.”

“It'll be dangerous.” Geoff fixed him with a stern look. And he'd been pushing down that fear, that paranoia, because once you started worrying about it you couldn’t stop, but he couldn’t help but feel a bit concerned now. “People target Jack to get at me.”

“We can take care of ourselves,” Michael replied, resting a hand on his shoulder.

“I know. I trust you guys.” He frowned a little. “Gav, though – gonna try keep that on the down low. Not take him into the field if I can help it. People find out about him and he'll be a magnet for trouble.”

“Oh God, no,” Michael said, frowning as well.

“Don’t worry, though.” Geoff cupped his cheek momentarily before turning away. “He's got four of the most dangerous people in the country watching his back. Not to mention Ryan. We'll take care of him.”

“You can say that again-” Michael broke off abruptly, spinning around to look at the garage door, and Geoff tensed, on the alert instantly.

“Did you hear that?” Michael demanded.

“The thunder?” Geoff asked – there had just been another rumble – but Michael shook his head.

“No... sounded like a car pulling up.”

“I didn’t hear anything.” The rain was too noisy, but Michael seemed tense and Geoff trusted his instincts. He pulled his gun, moving to the garage door to peer out.

Sure enough, there were two cars pulling into the parking lot, and as Geoff watched they parked and a cluster of men got out.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Michael hissed - “He fucking followed us again?”

“I don't think he did,” Geoff observed with a frown. On the one hand, the men were obviously working for Edgar, or at least up to no good; they wore scarves pulled up to cover their faces, though that may also have been from the cold. But they made no move to take out weapons, though Geoff could see them carrying – and as he watched, one of them put up an umbrella. You didn't bother with umbrellas if you were looking to start a fight.

He ducked back into the garage.

“They're here to collect something, or do something at the house,” he said. “They don't know we're here. Lucky we parked farther down the road.”

“You sure?” Michael asked, looking dubious. “Pretty big fucking coincidence them showing up the same day as us. If Edgar wants something from this place you'd think he'd've taken it already.”

“Maybe he knows we'll be trying to find him by this point. Cleaning up his loose ends. It makes sense to pick today if he's worried about us watching him – he probably thinks we'll stay in with it raining so damn hard. Makes it hard for cameras to catch anything good in this wet, I'll warrant.”

Geoff darted a glance out again. The men didn't look much like mercenaries, or at least not properly trained ones, unless it was fucking casual friday. They weren't wearing any sort of armour or the usual merc getup, and they didn't quite have the stature or poise of professional hired muscle. Just groundsmen, then? But appearances could deceive – just look at Ray – and in any case, they were making their way towards the house now, and he cursed.

“We need to warn the others.”

“Shouldn't we take them out while we have the element of surprise?” Michael asked, hand going to his gun, but Geoff shook his head.

“A firefight in these conditions will suck. It's wet, we don't have much cover – we need to take them out indoors. I'll call the others and as soon as they're in the house we'll make a run for it. Get in the back door and upstairs before they can get to the others. Okay?”

“Okay,” Michael replied – he sounded doubtful for a second more but then gave a decisive nod.

“Okay,” he said, more firmly, looking up at Geoff. It was written all over his face – _I trust you. That_ warmed something in Geoff – settled him as he pulled out his phone, Michael nudging past him to keep an eye on the men as he made the call.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More [epic](http://gumbaro.tumblr.com/post/103962225571/this-literally-took-five-minutes-and-im-sorry-bc) [fanart](http://gumbaro.tumblr.com/post/103963135316/and-her-is-a-more-shippy-sketchdump-w-scenes-from) by gumbaro~ <3
> 
> wardens-oath on tumblr made this [absolutely perfect fanmix](http://8tracks.com/caketin/the-bad-guy-wins), thanks so much :)
> 
> And here’s [my own fanmix](http://8tracks.com/8ofhearts/it-s-not-always-cold) for Ryan and Gavin in this story; a bunch of the songs I listened to while writing the chapters where they were the last two not yet in the OT6 ehe~


	22. Chapter 22

Ryan closed the last drawer with a sigh.

Nothing.

They'd checked every nook and cranny in the Corpirate's bedroom, to no avail. It seemed he travelled so much that he didn't keep too much at home, so their efforts had been fruitless. Ray had left the room some time ago to go and check on Jack and Gavin, but it was only now that he'd finished searching that it hit Ryan how quiet it was without him.

Alone in the room, he looked around. He bit his lip as he took in the broken balcony doors and remembered the burning rage that had overtaken him when he was last here. The violence in the way he'd choked the life out of the Corpirate's body.

Most hits were different. He stayed impartial, clinical almost. Got the job done efficiently and didn't feel anything.

Not with this one. Every one of Edgar's men they'd taken down had been different. Each time one died he felt a strange hollowness in his stomach. Like he'd expected killing them to relieve something in him, only to find it only made the dull sort of ache that rose in his chest whenever he thought of the man grow even stronger.

Shaking his head, he strode out of the room, only to pause on the stairwell and close his eyes.

This was where Edgar's men had gotten the better of him. And he was still convinced, somewhere in his mind, that given more time he'd have gotten back to his feet and somehow ended up on top. But still – it hadn't come to that. Michael and Gavin had interfered first.

He hadn't dwelt on that much since his initial annoyance about it faded. Now it suddenly struck him that they could very easily have abandoned him. Gavin could have gotten out of the house and left him just the way Ryan had done to him. And honestly, if they had back then, he wouldn't have been surprised.

Now, though...

Now Michael had saved his life yet again, Geoff too. Both of them putting themselves at risk for him without a second thought.

Ryan had worked alone a lot the last few years. But before that – his old team – they'd had his back the way these guys did now.

He forced that thought away. As he'd told Gavin, it was less painful talking about it now. Less painful, but it still hurt.

 _Edgar could have killed me right away,_ he realised. _He had me pinned down. He could have pulled a gun and shot me right then and there._ But he hadn't. He'd stood back and watched his men beating Ryan. If it had gone on for much longer, maybe then he'd've shot him – but he hadn't. He'd drawn it out.

He hadn't been lying when he told Michael that Edgar didn't seem to feel anything, that he didn't seem to take _pleasure_ from his crimes. But he certainly seemed to have something out for Ryan.

He frowned a little.

That was a weakness. That drive for revenge meant he wanted something beyond what was merely required for him to achieve his goals. He didn't just want Ryan dead because it was necessary, because he was a threat. He wanted him to suffer.

 _Revenge is weakness_. Revenge meant passion, which in turn meant emotion – meant an increased risk of slipping up.

 _And haven't I slipped up_ , he thought, somewhat bitterly, mindful of his own quest for vengeance against the cow. How it hadn't just put him in danger but Gavin too. Something about that made him feel a bit sick suddenly, disgusted with himself. Even if Gavin had forgiven him now, being here, back in the house – looking back at the man he'd been only a few months ago, he felt an unpleasant sort of shame.

And on top of that, an odd longing to prove to the others just _how_ much he'd changed.

He knew they knew he cared about them. He'd shown it by now. Had as well as admitted it to Michael, Jack, Gavin – all of them. But somehow it didn't quite seem like enough.

Shaking himself, he moved down the stairs and wandered along the second storey corridor. The rain outside had somehow only gotten even heavier and it was starting to come in through cracks where the roof had been damaged by the fire. Ryan looked up at the smoke-blackened ceiling and couldn't help but smile a bit at the thought of what might have been going through Michael's head when he came up with the idea to light the entire building up.

It was funny; there hadn't been a turning point with any of the others. Just a slow sort of progression until one day he looked back and realised that he had let himself fall far too close to them. But Michael – with Michael he knew exactly when that switch had flipped. Just after Gavin had run away when they were sitting looking through the footage. When he'd pressed Ryan to tell him more about Edgar. There was something about Michael's simple blunt honesty that had prompted Ryan to tell him the truth, or some of it, anyway. And he'd appreciated that straightforwardness. Appreciated that it looked like Michael genuinely cared.

He walked on down the hall only to pause outside a familiar door. Pushing it open, he frowned.

It was the cloak room he'd left Gavin in when they were last here. He felt another guilty sort of pang.

After the fact all he'd been able to think was _I'd do it again_. So certain that his actions had been justified. Now everything was the exact opposite – he'd give Edgar up a thousand times if it meant keeping Gavin safe – the thought should have frightened him but now, suddenly, he found it bringing a small smile to his face.

That faded when he abruptly remembered that Gavin had joined the others now.

It was impossible not to feel like the odd one out, even if he knew – _knew –_ that they wanted him to join too. He just hadn't realised it would happen so soon; everyone but him ending up in a relationship. It seemed like they were moving very fast.

He hadn't thought Gavin would agree so quickly.

The last time they'd spoken about it he'd seemed so unsure. Ryan wondered what had changed – what had shifted to make him trust the others. He'd been alone with Michael the day he agreed. Something must have happened.

 _Jack as good as asked you to join the other day_.

He leaned against the doorframe and rested his head in the crook of his arm, squeezing his eyes shut.

It wasn't that he wasn't sure. If anything he was _too_ sure and that was what scared him. When Jack had extended the offer he had frozen up and part of him – part of him had been compelled to say yes. To bite the bullet, take that leap of faith. See what happened.

But he'd stopped himself – and what he'd told Jack had been true, to an extent, he was worried they were going too fast, and there was no denying there'd be problems even without him in the mix.

But it was more than that.

 _I am not a clean man_.

It wasn't a lie. Even before what happened with Edgar he had had his issues. He'd worked his way to the top of the food chain entirely on his own, and in his youth been double crossed more times than he could count. So he'd mostly worked alone since. And when he started wearing the mask...

He may not have liked the name, but he _did_ play up the mad mercenary thing when it benefitted him – which was often. And there was a danger in putting on a persona for too long, especially one like that. Especially one that had him covering his face most hours of the day, putting up layer after layer to avoid anyone finding out what was really underneath.

His old team had come close – so _close_ – to breaking through that. He had loved them, he thought now – not romantically, not like that. But he had loved them. And when they died it had hurt that they'd gotten to the point where he _wanted_ to let them in, only to never have the chance.

He knew that the fact the others had all seen his face now was a ridiculously large gesture. That that spoke more than anything he could say to convince them he trusted them.

And he wanted more.

But that fear was there. He was on the brink, he knew it, he just couldn't bring himself to take that final step.

With Gavin involved... it gave him some sort of courage, to know the other man had gotten over his own issues enough to let himself join the others. If Jack asked again now he wasn't sure what he'd do.

“Ryan,” a voice called out. He heard footsteps making their way down the corridor and straightened up, composing himself before turning to step back out into the hall.

Ray was striding towards him, brows furrowed. When he saw Ryan he beckoned him furiously.

“Geoff and Michael called. There are people here.”

“What?!"

“Edgar's people. They don't know we're here yet, come on!”

 

* * *

 

 

“According to Geoff and Michael some of them are still outside,” Jack said, lowering his phone from his ear. “There are about a dozen of them. They're staying hidden for now since they don't know we're here.”

“Some of them are already inside,” Gavin pointed out, needlessly – they could hear the footsteps and faint rise of voices from downstairs, though they couldn't quite make out the words. “They're gonna come up here in a minute, there's nothing down there.”

“Jack, what's the plan?” Ray asked, turning to him.

Jack glanced at Ryan, but he remained silent. He knew what he _wanted_ to do, of course – kill them all, maybe take one prisoner to try and get Edgar's location out of him – but he'd defer to Jack's judgement.

It was Gavin who spoke up, though.

“We have to spy on them.”

“What?” Ray asked, turning to him – Ryan raised his eyebrows. Gavin looked worried but not panicked, which was a good sign of progress. He also looked determined.

“This,” he said, waving the hard drive he'd retrieved, “Might be useless. I won't know until we get back to the house and I can check out what's on it. But these people are obviously here to pick up something. We need to watch and see what it is.”

“He has a point,” Ryan said – whatever was in this house was obviously too well hidden for them to find, but these people would lead them right to it.

There was a door leading from the study into the spare bedroom next door, and they shuffled through there in case the study was where the men were headed. But the footsteps traipsed their way down the hall, past where they were hiding behind the closed door, Ryan with his gun at the ready. He looked over in the darkness and accidentally caught Gavin's eye, catching the other man staring at him. Gavin swallowed and looked away, and it was then that Ryan realised the layout of this bedroom was very similar to the one on the storey above, where they'd shared their first kiss.

He bit his lip. Jack had a hand on Gavin's shoulder as they hid, pressed against the wall while they listened to the men pass by. Ryan could see the way Gavin leaned into the touch, the protective curl of Jack's arm around him.

He felt a sudden pang for human contact of that sort. Wasn't sure if he wanted to be the one holding Gavin or if it was Jack's comforting arm he craved around him.

 _You_ could _have that_ , he realised. _If only you let yourself_.

“They've gone by,” Ray whispered, ear pressed to the door.

Ryan cautiously opened it a sliver and peered out. Sure enough, the men had made their way down the hall and turned the corner. He opened it wider and stepped out, the other three trailing behind him like a herd of ducklings.

“Gavin, what's down there?” he asked.

“The library,” Gavin replied. “It's big – should be pretty easy to hide in and watch what they're doing, especially if they don't expect us.”

That may be so, but tailing someone was always a risk and Ryan was the only one of the group who specialised in stealth. He debated telling the others to stay here and going to check it out himself, but shook that idea off for reasons he didn't yet want to admit to himself.

“Stay really fucking quiet,” he whispered. “Follow my lead.”

They did so, sticking close behind him and moving as quietly as possible as they followed him down the hall. This side of the building was thankfully untouched by the fire, and since they thought they were alone in the house, the men hadn't bothered to keep a watch out, which made their job far easier.

Gavin knew what he was talking about; the library was a labyrinth of winding bookcases mazing though a large and very shadowy room. The thunder and rain outside only leant them more cover.

The men had stopped at the library's back wall, where there was a mantel and fireplace and several large paintings. Ryan led the others into the aisle just nearby where they peered through the gaps between the books, watching.

It was dark and the men were bundled up in winter clothes to the point where Ryan doubted Gavin could make anything of their identities. He didn't intend to let them leave the house alive, in any case. As they watched their leader – a fellow in a green parka – stepped forward and pulled one of the paintings off the wall, revealing a door behind it.

“A secret door,” Gavin muttered, aghast. “He has a secret door hidden behind a bloody _painting_. What the hell is this, Cluedo?”

“Cluedo?” Ryan asked, glancing at him. It was hard to hear him over the sound of the rain, speaking quietly as he was.

Gavin blinked a few times. “You know. Cluedo. Colonel Mustard in the ballroom with a letter opener and all that?”

“Oh, you mean _Clue_.”

“No, I mean Cluedo,” Gavin said, with a frown.

“That's stupid. What the fuck else do you call things? Do you call Monopoly _Monopoly-do_? Do you all gather round at your Nanna's for a round of Gin Rummy-do?”

“Shut up, we were the ones what invented it,” Gavin hissed back. “Besides, your lot changed _Where's Wally_ to _Where's Waldo_. What the hell sort of name is _Waldo_?”

“If you two could concentrate,” Jack pointed out drily, and Ryan snapped back to attention.

The man had opened the door and as they watched he stepped into the darkness inside – and then switched on a light. The room beyond was flooded with fluorescent whiteness and Ryan shifted position, trying to see inside behind the bodies of the men standing in the way.

When he did make out what was in the room he froze, stomach dropping like a stone.

Beside him he felt Ray stiffen, going very tense by his side. They turned to each other and made horrified eye contact.

“Is that what I fucking think it is?” Ray asked, quietly, and Ryan gave a small nod. He shifted out of the way so Jack and Gavin could see too, and heard them both let out a low curse.

“That's enough damn explosives to take down a city block,” Jack breathed, something very helpless in it, and Ryan felt a sudden hot flash of anger towards Edgar. _How the fuck is he so on top of things?_ They could get rid of as many mercenaries as they could but he'd worked with enough people like Michael to know it only took one to plant a bomb. And they might have deprived him of some ordnance back at the fairground, but who knew how many other stashes like this he had hidden all over the place.

As he watched the man picked up something from the room and strode back out, swinging it with irresponsible carelessness – a grenade launcher, Ryan realised, with a sinking feeling.

Beside him Ray let out a concerned hum.

“Wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of that,” he murmured. “Those things pack a punch. I got to fire a rocket launcher once on a job. Best day _ever_.”

“Not your first night of sweet passion with Michael?” Jack teased, and Ray smiled a bit.

“Well, that too. But y'know. A _rocket launcher_.” He turned back to look at the men and pulled a face. “Not quite the same but it's still heavy duty as fuck. Don't like the look of our chances against that thing.”

“Come on then,” Green Parka said, beckoning the rest of the men forward. The lot of them trooped into the room, presumably to start gathering up the explosives to bring back out to the car.

Ryan beckoned the others and they slipped back out of the room and to the study where they took a moment to consider what they'd just seen.

“Well fuck,” Ryan said finally, and they all gave murmurs of agreement.

“Edgar's planning a big move if he's bringing that ordnance in,” Gavin said quietly, and the others nodded.

Footsteps out in the corridor caught their attention and Ryan turned, weapon at the ready, Ray stepping up next to him. Jack pushed Gavin back behind him as the door started to open.

“Whoah! It's just us,” Geoff said, stepping in to be met with the barrel of Ryan's gun. He ushered Michael through quickly and closed the door behind in. “Took us fucking forever to get up here. There's still a bunch of guys wandering around outside. They didn't see us, though.”

“So what's the plan?” Michael asked. “Take them out or follow them back to Edgar?”

“They've got a grenade launcher and a fuckload of explosives,” Jack said. “And I mean a _fuckload_. We can't let them get away.”

“Let's take out the ones outside first,” Geoff replied, but he was frowning now, obviously worried by this new development.

They checked the corridor and started back out, only to freeze. On the ground floor the doors were swinging open and some of the men outside were coming in. They tried to retreat back into the study but were too late; looking up towards the stairs the men quickly caught sight of them.

“Hey you!” one of them hollered, already raising his weapon. “Freeze!”

Ray shot him down immediately but the noise had the men in the library running out, including Green Parka with his grenade launcher. The minute Ryan saw the weapon his blood ran cold; he'd faced worse but always on his own. A big group meant a bigger target.

“Run!” he shouted, shoving Geoff, the closest to him, along the corridor. They began to sprint, heading deeper into the house to find cover, but he could hear the men behind him in hot pursuit.

Turning, he fell back behind the others and raised his gun, determined to cover the others while they escaped, to slow their pursuers down a little – only for a hand to grab his arm and roughly spin him around.

“Oh no you fucking don't,” Geoff snarled, raw anger in his face. “Come _on_ , idiot, this isn't the time to play hero.”

He dragged Ryan a few steps until he gave up and turned back around, running with the rest of them. Gunshots were echoing behind them and Ryan glanced over his shoulder to see, at the end of the corridor, Green Parka crouch down and lift the grenade launcher to his shoulder.

 _Big group, bigger target_.

“Split up!” he yelled as they came to the end of the hall, and the group scattered. Ray and Geoff moved with him, the others veering off to the left. The three of them pelted on, moving now into the ruined and burned parts of the house.

 

* * *

 

 

“Go, go,” Jack ordered, ushering the other two past him.

They'd put a little distance between them and their pursuers – it helped that the house was so big – but he knew they were still being chased. Now he hung back as Michael dragged Gavin into another of the spare bedrooms, peering around the wall next to him to see how many people were after them.

There was no sign of Green Parka, but one other man was rounding the corner and Jack shot him quickly before turning to follow the others-

Only to pause as a sudden explosion rang out in another part of the house, rattling the floor under his feet.

The blast itself wasn't that big – fuelling his suspicions that it had just been a grenade – but only seconds later the most terrible groaning noise sounded, followed by a series of deafening cracks and crashes that reverberated through the entire building. What's more, they didn't stop – it was hard to hear under the heavy rain that still went on, but thuds and bangs continued every few minutes.

Jack moved into the bedroom after the other two and shut the door behind them.

“What the fuck was all that noise?” Michael demanded.

“Sounded like a grenade,” Jack replied.

“Yeah, I got that part, but after. Sounds like the fucking house is collapsing.”

“I wouldn't be surprised,” Jack replied – the other half of it had, after all, been quite severely damaged by the fire. He bit his lip, trying not to think about the fact that the grenade had likely been aimed at the others. _It's okay. They're probably okay_.

He moved over to the window and looked down. Second storey – not too big a drop. Pulling it open, he stuck his head out, looking around. There were no men around this side of the house, and he beckoned the others over.

“Come on. We'll climb out here.”

“Looks high,” Gavin spoke out, peering worriedly out.

Jack analysed the drop again and shook his head. “It's fine. Hang down and then drop. I'll go first and catch you if you're worried. There's no other way out unless we want to risk trying to get downstairs.”

The window was pretty big but it was still a struggle to get out, and he didn't quite manage to hang down all the way before his grip slipped and he found himself falling. He had enough presence of mind to make sure he dropped down feet-first, rolling as he hit the ground.

Pain lanced through his hands. For a moment he was winded by the impact and took a moment to catch his breath as he slammed and rolled against the hard concrete of the drive, coughing a few times to get his breath back.

He got up to his knees and lifted his hands up, grimacing. His palms were bleeding heavily, blood pooling slippery and sticky between his fingers where his skin had been cut up by the glass that was littering the ground from the broken first-floor windows. There were a few pieces stuck in there, gravel and dirt too, but he ignored them, looking up to where Michael and Gavin had their heads poked out the window, looking down at him worriedly.

“You alright?” Michael hollered down.

“I'm fine,” Jack called back up. He was already soaked, the heavy rain battering relentlessly down on him. Turning, he kicked the worst of the glass away, clearing as much as he could before looking up at the window again. “Come on!”

He saw Michael lean in and say something in Gavin's ear that he couldn't catch from down here. After a minute Gavin nodded and Michael pressed a kiss to his cheek before vanishing back inside. A few moments later Gavin climbed out the window, hanging down from the sill and letting himself dangle vertically.

He gave a rather high pitched shriek as a particularly strong gust of wind made him swing a little. “Bloody hell I do not like this!”

“Just drop,” Jack said, coming up under him. “I gotcha!”

With another rather shrill yell, Gavin let himself fall. He had enough sense to move into a roll as well as he landed, and Jack caught him as he hit the ground, guiding him to fall properly and shielding him from the remaining glass on the ground.

“Okay?” he asked.

Gavin nodded.

“Look out below!” Michael hollered from above them, and Jack dragged Gavin back out of his path as the other man dropped down, landing in a neat roll. Jack pulled him to his feet and the three of them quickly moved across the back drive to crouch behind a hedge in the garden, getting their breath back.

“Your hands,” Gavin said, grabbing Jack's wrist and tugging it towards him.

Michael looked over and winced. “Fuck, that looks like it hurts.”

“It's fine,” Jack assured them; there was a constant burning sting but he'd dealt with worse. The rain was already washing the blood away in watery rivulets. He reached up to wipe his face, flipping his wet hair out of his face. “We should-”

“Oh my God.” Gavin had peered up from behind the hedge. “Look at the house.”

Jack looked up. From this angle they could see the other side of the mansion, and his eyes widened in horror. Part of it had crumbled away and collapsed in on itself. It seemed it had already been unstable, badly damaged from the fire, and the grenade had been the last straw that brought it all crashing down. It was still falling apart even now – chunks of roof caving in as they watched. The occasional ringing thud as parts of the floor collapsed inside.

“The others...” Gavin trailed off and Jack reached out and gripped his shoulder, only to wince as the motion dug shards of glass further into his palm. He wasn't sure if he was trying to reassure Gavin or himself.

He pulled his phone from his pocket and called Geoff, but it rang out immediately and he bit his lip. _Maybe he didn't hear it._ They always had their phones on vibrate, anyway – it would be easy to miss it in the noise and the rain.

“We'll go find them,” Michael said, watching Jack put his phone away with furrowed brows. He was already getting up and Jack reached out and snagged the hem of his jacket, tugging him back down.

“Wait."

“What?” Michael snapped. His eyes were wide, fear and worry written all over his face.

“We can't just run in there. That asshole with a grenade launcher is probably still wandering around.”

“You want us to just fucking sit here, then?” Michael demanded. “Or what? Run away and _leave them_?”

“I never said that.” Jack couldn't help but flinch a little at the harshness in the other man's tone. Once he probably wouldn't have let Michael's anger affect him, knowing it stemmed from concern more than anything – but not here, not now. Not now that they were together. Not when two of their boyfriends and Ryan were in danger.

Michael's face softened and he reached out, squeezing Jack's arm.

“Sorry,” he said quietly. “I know. What do you think we should do, then?”

“Stealth's our biggest advantage right now.” A massive cloud of dust and ash had risen up when the building collapsed, and with the storm blocking out most of the light it was already dark as dicks here. “Three of us will draw way more attention than one.” He paused, wondering if his next suggestion would set Michael off. “You need to take Gavin back to the cars.”

“ _What_?” Michael screeched, as he'd expected – only for Gavin to shush him furiously and yank both of them back down under the cover of the hedge.

Peering through a gap in the foliage, Jack frowned as he noticed some of the men coming out the back door of the house. Some of them were carrying carefully packaged boxes of the explosives from the house, others were just holding guns – one of them an automatic rifle, Jack realised, with a terrible sinking feeling. They paused in the drive to talk before heading off towards the car park, leaving them alone soon after.

Jack let out a huff of breath, relieved at not being discovered, and turned back to the others only to pause when he noticed Gavin. He hadn't looked away from the drive and was staring at it, frozen, his eyes wide and horrified. Something lost in them, like he wasn't actually focused on what he was seeing. After a moment he lifted a hand and pressed it hard against his mouth. His fingers were shaking.

“No,” Jack heard him murmur – something faint in it, voice small and weak. “Oh God, no, it can't be...”

Jack's brows furrowed, but before he could ask what was up Michael grabbed his arm, and all thoughts of Gavin fled his mind at the scowl on the other man's face.

“What the fuck do you mean, you want to go in there alone?” Michael hissed, picking up where they'd left off.

“Michael,” Jack said, forcing calm into his voice. He reached out and grabbed the other man's shoulders. He was trembling and Jack was pretty sure it wasn't from the cold; his own heart was pounding, skipping beats with every further thud they heard from the collapsing house.

“We're outnumbered,” he said. “We don't know if the others are okay or not. I hope they are but if they're injured there's no way we can get them out on foot. There's no way in hell I'm bringing Gavin into that deathtrap and we can't leave him here by himself. So go back to the car and if I need you to drive in, I'll tell you. Trust me. Okay?”

Michael bit his lip and for a moment Jack thought he was going to argue further. He stared at him earnestly and after a minute Michael's shoulders sagged a little.

“Okay,” he said, and Jack leaned in and kissed him. Michael's hands came up, clutching the front of his jacket like a lifeline, and when they broke apart Jack brought his hand around to the back of Michael's neck and rested their foreheads together for a moment.

“Be careful,” Michael said, and Jack nodded.

“You too.” He turned towards Gavin to find him staring at the ground, his jaw clenched tightly. Still looking lost in thought. “Gavin, stick close to Michael, okay?”

Gavin gave a vague sort of nod but barely seemed to be listening. Jack frowned a little, but he didn't have time to dwell now on what might be up with him, and reached forward to pull him into a quick hug. Gavin hugged him back tightly, burying his face in his shoulder for a minute before Jack pulled away and turned to sneak back towards the house.

 

* * *

 

 

He took down one more of Edgar's men as he entered the smoking wreck of the building. The guy had been trapped under a fallen piece of rubble and Jack shot him before moving carefully on.

The place was in shambles. The entire wing had collapsed in on itself and the air was thick with a choking black dust. It couldn't be at all healthy to be breathing it in, and he had his scarf pulled up over his nose and mouth, struggling to keep the ash from his lungs. Broken glass and shrapnel crunched under his feet as he crept through the dark, derelict areas, too worried about being heard to call out for the others.

He reached what he supposed had once been a dining room. There was a giant hole in the roof stretching through all three storeys and rain was pouring through, turning the floor of the room to sooty sludge.

No sign of the others.

He closed his eyes for a moment and couldn't help but suck in a deep breath. His lungs ached after trying to breathe shallowly for so long. Everything smelt like charcoal and gunpowder and rain.

Somehow he knew they weren't dead – knew it in his bones – but the worry was there, a faint lurking paranoia. And they might be injured, or in danger right now.

He and Geoff had had years to get over the issues that rose up with your loved ones being put in harm's way in a field as dangerous as theirs. It didn't mean they found it easy now, though. There was still a sick sort of wrench in his gut at the thought.

He found himself abruptly thinking of Ryan.

Gavin was one thing. He was helpless and so he easily, almost desperately accepted the others' protection. And Jack loved him in his own right – appreciated his humour and his bravery and his cleverness – but there was no denying that a part of their relationship was based on the trust born from Jack defending him, whether it be from enemies or his own mind, his own memories.

Ryan was different.

He was more capable than the rest of them combined, more likely than not. But Jack still worried about him. Worried about the day that still wouldn't be enough to keep him safe – worried about the emotional vulnerability that was barely even hidden by this point.

Worried, deep down, that their getting together with Gavin so soon after Ryan had rejected his accidental offer might have come across the wrong way.

He felt like he should have said something – approached Ryan last night or this morning. But he didn't know what he would have said. Part of him was still a little hurt at the rejection, justified though he knew it was. If anything that had only cemented the fact that he knew, now, that he loved the other man. A word which sprang far too easily to mind, but Jack had never been one to deny his feelings. He loved Ryan just as he loved Michael, and Ray, and Gavin. And he'd be as patient as need be but dangerous situations like these only escalated his awareness that time was not a luxury they had.

It was why Geoff had made that move on Ray – the sudden realisation that he could be gone in an instant and they'd never even have had a chance – the reason why Jack had understood him breaking their agreement to wait until after Edgar was dealt with.

That was it. Fear that they wouldn't get a chance.

The scuff of a footstep against the ground made him stiffen and he pressed back into the shadows of the dining room, gun at the ready –

It was Ray.

It was Ray who wandered in through the broken doors on the far end of the dining hall. He was drenched, his clothes turned black with dust and ash, hood pulled low over his eyes to keep the rain off.

“Ray,” Jack called out, and his head snapped up. When Jack stepped from the shadows a wide grin spread across Ray's face and he jogged to meet him. He raised a hand as though to touch Jack's arm and then seemed to think better of it and pulled him into a tight embrace instead. Jack hugged him back, feeling his heart slow and settle. The contact was comforting, even if they were both freezing and wet, their damp clothes clinging uncomfortably to them.

“You're okay,” he said, squeezing Ray tighter. “You're okay.”

“'course I'm okay,” Ray replied. “Takes more than a collapsing house to get rid of me. Speaking of, we should get out of here.”

They pulled apart and Jack looked past Ray to the door he'd come in from, expecting the others to enter next. When they didn't, he frowned.

“Where's Geoff? Ryan?”

Ray opened his mouth to reply but before he could there was a terrible crash as another part of the ceiling caved in on them, large chunks of masonry landing just feet away from them. Both of them jumped, flinching backwards, and Jack raised his sleeve to his nose as a massive cloud of ash rose up under the impact, making him cough and choke.

“I think it's time to get the fuck out of dodge,” Ray said, already heading for the door, and Jack nodded. Ray reached out and caught his hand, pulling him after him, and they headed down a few corridors before emerging into an empty patio.

Jack coughed a few more times, trying to clear the dust and grit from his lungs. His eyes were stinging and he reached out to swipe at them, leaning back against the patio wall.

Ray turned to him in concern. “You're bleeding.”

“What?” he realised that the wounds on his hands were still open and when he wiped at his face he'd streaked blood across it. Grimacing, he moved across to sit down on a nearby deck chair, Ray coming over to crouch next to him.

“There's glass stuck in there,” Ray said, taking his hand and turning it over. “It'll bleed more if we take it out.”

“Don't have tweezers anyway,” Jack replied.

“We should still bandage it up.” He took his knife from his belt and cut a strip from one of his undershirts; having been wearing enough layers that the ones underneath were still somewhat dry. Jack held his hands out and let Ray wind the makeshift bandages around them, wincing a little at the pressure against the glass embedded in his skin.

“So where are the others?” he pressed.

Ray glanced up at him. “We were all together when that asshole fired a grenade at us. Then the fucking building started coming down around us. We barely made it to the ground floor safely, but shit was collapsing everywhere and I got stuck in another room than the other two. The doorway was blocked off. But they were both fine; we agreed to meet up outside and try to find you guys. Where's Michael and Gav?”

“Sent them back to the cars. I thought the grenade guy would still be after us.”

“Oh, he is,” Ray said. “But most of them seem to be concentrating on getting those explosives out of there and to the cars.”

He finished tying off the bandage and straightened up. “That feel alright?”

Jack nodded. It still hurt to flex his hands too much, but he'd been injured far worse and pushed through it. “Yeah. Thanks.”

Ray smiled a bit. “Did not expect our day to turn in this direction.”

“Same here.” He'd anticipated finding nothing at the Corpirate's place, or even if they did, to be back at the house within a few hours. “Seems like whenever we go somewhere Edgar just shows up.”

“It's like Ryan said. He's smart.”

Jack nodded. The thought sobered him. He and Ray still had not encountered Edgar up close and personal. But so far his persistence, intelligence and ability to constantly appear out of the blue and fuck things up was terrifying.

Gavin had never properly talked about what happened when Edgar took him, he realised suddenly. And Ryan rarely went into the specifics either.

_What does he want with those explosives?_

“I'm sorry for dragging you into all this,” Jack said, abruptly – he and Geoff had perhaps not been entirely sympathetic back at the beginning of this operation. It seemed a long time ago since Ray and Michael were little more to them than hired guns, albeit ones they were regular clients of and enjoyed working with.

Ray just shrugged. “Hey – you hadn't brought us in, I'd've never ended up with Michael. Or you and Geoff and Gav. I got four boyfriends out of the deal, so. Maybe we should be sending Edgar flowers.”

Jack scoffed. “There's a thought.”

“You think he knows?” Ray asked, suddenly.

“Who?”

“Edgar,” Ray replied. “You think he knows about us? That we're together now?”

Jack froze. The thought hadn't occurred to him. After all, it had happened so recently – and he assumed Edgar had not been monitoring them all that closely since Shadles was taken down. And especially not monitoring them in the privacy of their hideouts and safe houses.

“I... I don't think so,” he replied, but couldn't help but shiver at the possibility. It was doubtless that Edgar already knew how close they were to each other, but the information that they were now romantically involved would only give him an extra edge if he were to catch one of them.

He remembered what had happened to Ryan's old team and again felt that terrible pang at the thought of how much it must have hurt. Realised, again, just why he must be so afraid to join them.

Ray seemed to be thinking something similar, for he bit his lip, looking down. And it was rare for Jack to see him properly scared or worried – for the most part he hid it well when they weren't in immediate danger, or otherwise he seemed capable of maintaining a rather laid back demeanour despite whatever circumstances they might be in. But now, now he looked afraid, and Jack reached out and drew him closer.

“Hey,” he said, and leaned in to give him a quick, soft kiss on the lips. “Hey. We're gonna kick his ass, okay?”

Ray scoffed out a laugh. “Yeah.”

“Good. Don't forget it.”

He rose from the deck chair and moved to open the patio gate only to pause, ducking back behind the wall. Ray turned to him questioningly, already moving to raise his gun, and Jack jerked his head towards the two men he could see moving past. One of them was Green Parka with his grenade launcher.

Ray raised a finger to his lips and motioned for Jack to stay still. He complied, knowing Ray was the better shot of the two of them. And perhaps he should have been afraid, worried that if they blew this chance to kill the man quickly they'd be screwed – they were at too close a range for the wall to provide any sort of cover from a grenade – but he wasn't. He trusted Ray not to miss.

Ray moved up behind the wall, his gaze intent and focused. Jack watched him take a few deep breaths before in a single, fluid motion he rose up to look over the edge and fired two shots.

He heard the soft thuds as the bodies hit the ground. Gave a little exhale of relief as Ray ducked back against the wall with him.

“That's one problem sorted,” he said, and Jack nodded.

They headed out the patio gate, which led to a pathway winding down the side of the house towards the back drive. Ray jogged over to the fallen bodies and picked up the grenade launcher, hefting it in his grip.

“Do you know how to use that thing?” Jack asked.

Ray barked out a laugh. “Of course!”

“Just checking, just checking.”

With the weapon in their hands he now felt far more in control of the situation. Ray was grinning widely, turning the launcher over in his hands, and Jack couldn't help but smile at his contagious enthusiasm.

A buzz from his phone. He pulled it out of his pocket, holding it under his jacket to shield it from the rain. Michael had texted, asking how things were going. He quickly fired back a message telling him it was all fine, that they didn't need help yet – was reassured that at least the two of them had gotten to the car okay – and when he looked back up Ray was pointing the grenade launcher down the road, seemingly testing its scope.

He turned towards Jack and opened his mouth to say something, but then his gaze refocused on something just over Jack's shoulder. Jack turned and his heart leaped as he noticed Geoff running down the path towards them. A wide smile split his face as he stepped forward to welcome him, but it faded immediately at the look on Geoff's face – brows drawn, lips pressed tightly together.

“What's wrong?” Jack demanded as soon as he got close enough to hear. And then, “Where's Ryan?”

“Off getting himself _fucking_ killed because he is a _complete fucking idiot_ .” He grabbed Jack's arm and began pulling him along towards the car park, beckoning Ray along the way. “Come _on_ , we have to stop him-”

“Stop him? Geoff, calm down a second, what's going on?” Jack grabbed his shoulders, wincing at the pressure against his palms, and held him steady. Geoff was breathing harshly, obviously hyped up on adrenaline and panic, and Jack kept a firm grip on him until he calmed down a little.

Geoff's eyes flickered over to Ray; smiled a little when he noticed the grenade launcher in his hands. Then he looked around and frowned.

“Michael-”

“Safe,” Jack replied, “Gavin too. I sent them back to the car. Now what did Ryan do?”

“He got it into his head that he needs to play the hero and try and stop them from taking the explosives, so he went off on his own to deal with it. I told him to wait for us to find each other and then do it together but he refused to listen.” Geoff shook his head with a curse. “ _Idiot_. I was going to go with him but I heard the gunshots here and came to check it out. I'm glad you took out that fuckhead with the grenade launcher, that'll make life easier.”

“So is he headed to the library or to the car park?” Jack asked.

“I don't fucking know,” Geoff replied, “Car park I think. He just ran off suddenly all ' _I gotta take care of this_ '. Jesus Christ.”

“Okay. Well, don't panic,” Jack said, squeezing his shoulder. “We took down grenade launcher guy and I'm sure Ryan's dealt with worse than this, on his own, too. One hundred percent success rate, remember?”

The reminder of Ryan's prowess seemed to calm Geoff down a little; he nodded, face softening a bit.

“Right. You're right.”

“So let's go check the car park first.”

“Okay.”

They headed off down the path, hugging the patio wall in case anyone approached from in front of them. Jack's thoughts drifted to Ryan and he couldn't help but frown a little.

“I thought we were beyond this,” he admitted after a minute. The other two turned to look at him.

“This running off for the sake of taking down some of Edgar's men,” he explained. “I mean... I know from the start he's had his own agenda but... I thought that now we were working as a team. I get that it's not like he's abandoning us now, but. Why wouldn't he just wait and let us take these guys down together? What changed?”

“I don't know,” Geoff replied. There was frustration in his tone but also something like disappointment.

Ray just shrugged, but he was frowning too. Looked pained. Jack bit his lip as he looked away.

Geoff reached out and pressed his arm.

“Hey,” he said – it seemed it was his turn to be the reassuring one. “Whatever's got into him, I don't think it was our fault and I don't think it means he doesn't care about us.”

“I know.”

“If anything I think he's doing whatever he's doing to protect us,” Geoff said.

Jack nodded. Again he couldn't help but feel that desperate flicker of _want_ , that desire for Ryan to just join them already. Not only for their sake but for _his_ – Jack felt he needed it, somehow. Needed that closeness and connection, needed to let them in. To trust them enough to communicate with them because as it was now he had no idea what was going on in the other man's mind, and that frightened him – made him worried for what Ryan might be trying to do.

He picked up the pace a little, desperate to find him quicker, and the others did too, breaking into a jog along the muddy path under the merciless rain.

 

* * *

 

 

Ryan strode towards the car park with a purpose. He felt cold and it wasn't just from the rain and the wind. Cold inside and out, like he had in the years just before he joined his old team; that blur of endless jobs that ran into each other in his memories. Just kill after kill, barely even registering each one. All just targets to him.

Cold like he'd felt when he gave up his search for Edgar the first time, resigning himself to the fact that the man had gone underground and he didn't have the resources or manpower to pursue him. That was months after his first encounter with the man. Not immediately after. After, he hadn't felt cold. There had been pain, and anger – constant, burning anger.

He paused as he reached the shed near the parking lot and ducked inside to check his gun and gather himself. Peering out the doorway he observed the men still carrying boxes of explosives out to the car. Several others were standing around, guarding them.

He stepped back inside the shed and closed his eyes, breathing deeply for a few moments.

 _Geoff's angry with you_.

The man had screamed at him when he announced his intentions to go after the men. God, he'd been so _angry_ – he'd grabbed Ryan and shaken him hard when he kept insisting on going. _What the fuck_ and _are you trying to get yourself fucking killed_ and _we do this together –_ together _– I thought you got that, we're a fucking_ team.

That was the problem.

They were a team and Edgar knew it – Edgar would be getting desperate now, angry and desperate – he was going to do it all again. Use their affection for each other against them – and since he had something out for Ryan now too, he'd make it slow.

Whatever he wanted these explosives for, it couldn't be good, and suddenly – suddenly Ryan's fear for what Edgar could do to the others had overwhelmed him. All he'd known was that he had to stop them, stop them immediately – they couldn't risk letting these people get away – he knew Geoff wanted them to regroup, to take out the threat together, but he couldn't risk it. Knew that by this point Edgar would know they were getting close to finishing him off and would be doing everything possible to foil them.

Sure enough, when he looked out again, two of the cars were already pulling away, even though they hadn't finished being loaded yet – it seemed they were anticipating being stopped – and he realised that he had to act immediately.

Stepping out of the shed and towards the cover of another nearby wall, he fired at the tires of the nearest car. The shots met their mark but it quickly became apparent that the tires were bulletproof; with a curse he shot at the back windscreen, trying to hit the driver.

The men who'd been guarding the others began to fire at him and he ducked back behind the wall. They weren't wearing body armour so it would be fairly easy to take them down, if only there weren't so many of him. Still, he was used to being outnumbered, and he let himself fall back into the zone, taking out several of them with ease and ducking back under cover when he needed to.

The cars were getting away.

He could see them arcing around the parking lot to drive back out towards the main road, and cursing, he leaped out from behind the wall and began to run after them. There were only a few men left standing now, one of them caught reloading, and he turned and shot them over his shoulder.

He continued to shoot at the cars and watched a window and the windscreen shatter of the closest, the vehicle swerving frantically and causing a massive wave of water to sweep across the flooded lot. Ryan turned to fire again but a flash of movement caught his eye and he looked over to see more of the men running from the house, having heard the commotion. One of them had an automatic rifle and he cursed, diving for cover behind one of the other cars in the lot as a hail of bullets rained down on him. He heard the car's windows shatter immediately.

Being caught out here was not ideal; the cars were the only cover in the expansive lot. He let out a curse as he reloaded his own gun and chanced a peek up. The man with the assault rifle was striding towards him, still firing relentlessly.

“Shit,” he hissed, ducking back down again. He knew if he could get a clean shot he could take the guy out, but in the rain and dark as it was, combined with the fact that he was pinned down behind this car, made it a difficult task.

And once – once it would have been easier. Back when he didn't care, back when he had nothing to lose – his hundred percent success rate was the product of his willingness to put his life on the line because all in all, he had very little to live for. It wasn't that he _wanted_ to die, but rather that he'd take risks that others with more to lose wouldn't.

But now – now Gavin drifted into his head. How the other would feel if he died. Ray too, and the others – and his sudden desire to have that chance to be with them. A hope for the future that he'd never felt previously. He couldn't pull a reckless move, couldn't risk that.

Taking a deep breath, he contemplated making a runner for another car a few metres away, one that looked rather sturdier – only to frown as a reflection in the side mirror of the car caught his attention. Turning, his eyes widened as he noticed Ray, Jack and Geoff jogging towards them from around the side of the house. As he watched they split up, angling towards different areas of the car park.

“Hey, bitch!” he heard Ray holler. “Over here!”

Automatic-rifle guy turned towards him and Ray raised a weapon and fired. It took Ryan a second to register that it had been a grenade launcher – the man seemed surprised too, because he faltered for a second before letting out a wild curse and leaping back.

Too late.

The grenade exploded, catching both him and the two men beside him. Ryan curled in on himself behind the car, feeling the vehicle shake from the force of the blast. His ears rang at the volume of the sound, ringing and popping in the aftermath. He took a moment to get his breath back before straightening up and turning to look at the carnage.

He'd seen people killed by grenades before but it always remained gruesome; bodies ripped apart and shredded by shrapnel. Blood was splattered over the entire side of the car closest to the blast.

 _The cars_ , he remembered.

“They're getting away!” he shouted, spinning around. Saw Ray turn as well, aiming the grenade launcher – but in all the commotion the two vehicles had escaped. There was no way they'd catch them, not on foot as they were now, and he let out a loud “ _Fuck!_ ” and slammed his fist violently against the roof of the car. Then, after a moment, hit it again, and began kicking at the door hard enough to dent the metal, already battered from the blast.

“Ryan!” Jack cried, sounding alarmed, and began to run over to him across the car park.

Ryan's eyes were burning and he didn't know why; the anger in his chest was rising up threatening to suffocate him. _They got away. They got away. They got away_.

Maybe it was the stress of the entire day; the fact that since taking down the duck they hadn't been able to get a solid lead on Edgar at all. Or the fear that had been rising steadily over the past few days, a combination of coming closer and closer to Edgar and trying to sort out his feelings for the men he was working with. But it all came to a head now, as he realised he had _failed_ – failed to keep those explosives out of Edgar's hands – he kicked the car again, whirling around to face Jack-

Only to freeze as movement in the house behind him caught his eye.

There was a man in the window of one of the upper storeys, standing there looking down at them – raising a gun directly at Jack, who was out in the open crossing the lot.

Ryan's stomach dropped. Everything seemed to stop.

He didn't even have time to shout. Was barely in control of his own movements as he launched himself forward, nearly slipping on the wet concrete. He lunged desperately forward and shoved Jack out of the way just as the shot rang out.

The bullet grazed his arm with enough force to spin him sideways. He stumbled, flinching back as several more shots rang out around him – fell over and hit the ground hard.

A bullet hit the concrete right next to his head and for a moment pure _panic_ ripped through him at the thought of death.

 _Not yet_ , was all he could think. _Not yet, not yet, not yet-_

And not even because he still needed to get revenge on Edgar, as had been his primary motivation for survival previously. That was nowhere near the forefront of his mind.

 _Not yet_ because of the others – because of Jack, and Ray, and Michael and Geoff. Because of Gavin. Because suddenly he wanted, _needed_ , to be with them – to have that, if only for a second – couldn't die without showing them just how much they meant to him.

Not only had the breath been knocked out of him upon impact, but the car park was so absolutely flooded by now that when his head hit the ground his face was actually submerged underwater for a moment. Water flowed into his mask through the breathing and eye holes and he choked, spluttering for a moment as he accidentally inhaled it.

He pushed himself upright, eyes blurred from the water, blinking furiously. Heard another distant explosion, followed by a scream, and realised through his swimming vision that Ray had fired another grenade through the window, taking the man out-

He couldn't breathe.

He was choking, drowning, and reached up frantically to rip the mask off his face. Coughed up water, struggling to draw in a proper breath as he fell forward and braced himself on his hands and knees. He felt Jack come up next to him, grab him by the shoulder and steady him, a warm hand rubbing soothing circles on his back.

“It's okay, it's okay,” he was saying – Ryan's ears were still ringing. He tilted his head, shaking water from them as he coughed and choked.

His eyes were stinging and the rainwater running down his cheeks felt too close to tears for his comfort. It was strange to feel the cold wind on his bare face. Geoff and Ray had come up by this point; were also crouching next to him. Once he might have felt crowded. Now their presence was comforting.

Slowly he recovered himself, reaching up and swiping the water from his eyes. He looked up to find the others all staring at him in concern. Jack still had one hand on his shoulder, leaning in close to try and see his face.

“You okay?” Ryan croaked out, throat sore from inhaling water.

Jack scoffed out a near hysterical laugh. “Me? I'm fine, are _you_ okay? Your arm, you're bleeding...” His hand fluttered over Ryan's right arm, which was bleeding sluggishly, his jacket torn where the bullet had grazed his arm. “You... you could have fucking died just then, Ryan, you – what were you thinking?”

“He was about to shoot you.”

“You literally just jumped in front of a bullet for me, you – you could have died, you motherfucker.” Jack punched him in his uninjured shoulder, none too gently.

“You have blood on your face,” was all Ryan could reply with, somewhat frantically. He reached up to smudge it off Jack's cheek with his thumb and ended up with one hand cupping the other man's face.

His heart was still pounding from what had just happened. A near death experience hadn't shaken him this badly in a long time, but suddenly all he could think of was _not yet_ and _too soon_ and _they have to know I care-_

Jack's face was very close to his and Ryan looked up at him. Met his eyes and suddenly, wildly, thought _fuck it_.

In one swift motion he shifted forward and closed the distance between them, his mouth meeting Jack's with a slightly awkward clash of teeth. The other man froze against him for a moment before kissing back desperately.

It was not the best kiss Ryan had ever had. It took them a moment to get the angle right, and they were still kneeling in several inches of freezing rainwater, and blood was running down his arm, pooling sticky between his fingers where he was cupping Jack's face. Everything ached dully from the events of the day and both of them were shivering hard in the cold.

But Jack's hands were gentle where they came to rest on his shoulders, and when Ryan's hand slipped down to the side of his neck he could feel his pulse pounding hard under his skin. And his own heart was beating faster-faster- _faster_ but now – now it wasn't from fear. It was from nerves and excitement and maybe something else that he couldn't put a name to, but it felt good, it felt _right,_ and when they broke apart and rested their foreheads together, panting – breath fogging misty white between them in the frigid air – he thought _it's okay, it's going to be okay_. And for the first time in a long time, believed it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> speaksarcastically and picassothepickle on tumblr made these [awesome](http://speaksarcastically.tumblr.com/post/104109027172/based-on-the-great-sealand-takeover) [graphics](http://picassothepickle.tumblr.com/post/104172562263/larger-version) for the fic, thank you so much :)
> 
> Also r-haywoods made this [superb fanmix](http://8tracks.com/haywoods/we-run-this-city), and gavfreewood [made one too](http://8tracks.com/abbzeh/we-re-not-the-good-guys). They’re both incredible, thanks a bunch guys <3
> 
> **This ends arc 2! There will be no new chapter this week because I’m writing ahead so I can post faster updates once arc 3 starts. But I’ll be posting another story in the mean time and maybe a couple of prompt fills over on my tumblr. Thanks so much to everyone who’s stuck with the story so far; final stretch now towards the end. :)**


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait guys! There'll be an extra update on Christmas probably ;)
> 
> Thus commences arc 3. This chapter is more relationshippy than plotty 8D

“This weather needs to fucking stop,” Michael groaned as they climbed out of the car and he pulled his hood up again, then shook his fist at the sky. “I said fucking _stop_!”

“God _literally_ pissing on us all day,” Ray replied, following. The storm had passed but it was still raining steadily, and the bad weather had slowed them down enough that there was no way they could even begin to pursue the two cars that had gotten away with the explosives. So back to the house it was.

Michael glanced over at him as they moved to follow the others inside. “Not one hundred percent a bad day, though.”

“Edgar's about to blow us all to smithereens.”

“True, but us all is now _us all_ ,” Michael said, and jerked his head in the direction of Ryan, who'd walked quickly up ahead to unlock the door.

Ray followed his gaze and couldn't help giving a small smile.

They hadn't discussed what had happened out in the car park – mostly because they'd been focussed on getting out of the fucking rain, destroying the rest of the explosives still in the Corpirate's place and then getting the hell out of dodge – but when he picked himself up off the ground and pulled Jack up with him Ryan had looked over at them, and there had been something in his eyes. Ray had known, then, that he was giving in – that he might still be scared but he was also determined to give this a shot.

It was a relief to finally get in out of the bad weather. Geoff immediately moved to turn on the radiator in the lounge and Jack fetched a stack of towels. In silence they began to strip off their wet layers and dry themselves off. The heater took time to warm up and but they all huddled around it anyway, Ray shivering as he peeled off his wet shirt and then shimmied out of his jeans. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Gavin slip out of the room to change by himself again and bit his lip, making a mental note to go and talk to him later.

“Cold, cold, fucking cold,” Michael was muttering, hopping about as he tried to take a sock off. “I'm actually freezing, guys. My balls have like, receded into my body. Or shrivelled up like raisins.”

“Thanks for sharing,” Ray replied. “That's really making me want to fuck you later.”

Michael glanced over at him and smirked. “Whatever, Ray. Suck my raisin-balls.”

“That's... I... I don't even know how to respond to that,” Ray said, pulling a face, and Geoff and Jack laughed beside them. Michael's grin widened.

“Seriously though,” he said. “Best way to warm up, right?”

“Can't argue with that,” Geoff replied.

Ray smiled, but felt strangely nervous again. He was still torn between the idea of moving things along a bit faster with the others – trying things out, seeing how they felt – or taking it as slowly as he had with Michael. And it was strange, again, this whole thing - _six_ of them now – because he knew Michael might move at a different pace with the others than he would, Gavin too, and still wasn't quite sure he knew how this all worked.

A loud buzz distracted them and Geoff cursed, scrambling to find his phone in the pile of clothes he'd just taken off. Finally producing it, he glanced down at the screen and pulled a face.

“It's Heyman,” he said. “Back in a tick.”

He moved off down the corridor to take the call, leaving the rest of them to finish up getting dressed.

An odd sort of silence fell. Ray's gaze drifted to Ryan again – the newest of them – he was naturally curious as to what would happen now. A warm sort of feeling filled his chest. Now, with all six of them, things felt complete. Settled. The thought that he could be with the other man – be with _all_ of them – somehow made the day better, despite the failures they'd had.

But Ryan still had not said anything yet.

He was inspecting his injured arm – the bleeding had mostly stopped after he'd put pressure on it the whole drive over. After hesitating slightly awkwardly for a moment, he pulled his mask off to dry his hair and face. He was obviously acutely aware of the three of them watching him and after a minute glanced over at them, almost shyly. His shoulders very stiff.

“Dude,” Michael said then, throwing his own towel down on the couch. His curls were frizzing every which way as the heat from the radiator slowly filled the room and Ray couldn't help but smile fondly. Michael took a step towards Ryan, who looked over at him. “So I can like, kiss you now, right?”

His tone was only half-joking but it broke the tension, and after a second Ray saw Ryan's walls drop down as he seemed to realise that nothing had changed, they were still all _them_ – that he was in on this too now, this easiness they had with each other.

“I suppose you can,” he replied, a smile tugging at the side of his lips.

“Sweet,” Michael said. And stepped forward to do so.

The kiss was heated, frantic almost. Too much had built up between them all by now and it was all rushing out. Ryan's hands moved to tangle in Michael's hair, pulling his head around to a better angle. Ray swallowed hard as he watched Michael's hand come up against Ryan's neck, Ryan press him closer and tug at his lower lip with his teeth as he pulled back for air before surging forward again. He hadn't been privy to all of Michael's interactions with Ryan; they'd gotten closer separate of his own relationship with the man. But he couldn't deny they fit together well now, both equally aggressive in their movements. A frenzied passion building up between them.

It hit him then that Michael wanted this – wanted Ryan – just as much as he did. Something felt strange about that, maybe because he'd gotten closer to Ryan first, but again he felt that odd tug of almost jealousy. That need to have _his_ turn, to have Ryan acknowledge that he wanted Ray too.

There was a rustle by the door as Gavin came back into the room. His gaze fell on Michael and Ryan and he smiled a little before moving back over towards the others. Ray grinned, starting to reach out for his hand, but Jack, not noticing, got there first. Wrapped his arms around Gavin's waist and pulled him back against his chest, holding him close as he ducked his head to press a kiss to his hair.

Ray forced a smile as he turned away, wrapping his arms around himself. Ignored the odd pang that hit him _._

_Idiot. You'll get your turn. Don't start this shit, don't start it_ . It was the obvious risk that came with six of them in one relationship; that someone would start to feel left out. He knew it wasn't like that at all, that it would take time for them to work out how to get the balance right – but as he'd told Ryan, his relationship with Michael had been his first serious one in a very, very long time. Changing things up so quickly made him uncertain, even if he knew it was what he wanted. Being with so many people he kept feeling a weird obsessive need to make sure things were on the same level with everybody. Kept thinking _if I move things along with Gavin I should move them with Jack, too, and Geoff_ – and now Ryan. But maybe that wasn't the way to go about it.

He bit his lip – the thought of bringing it up with one of the others was embarrassing; like admitting he was the most inexperienced with all this. Everyone else seemed to be doing just fine, though he wasn't sure about Gavin, him having joined so recently. Even less sure about Ryan.

Before he could dwell on it further Geoff re-entered the room and Michael and Ryan broke apart. Ray saw them exchange a look – both of them panting, flushed – and glanced away, letting them have their moment.

“The make outs started without me, I see,” Geoff said, raising an eyebrow.

Ryan turned to him. “What did Heyman say?” he demanded, and Geoff rolled his eyes.

“And he's right back to business, of course. He said he's contacted all the mercenaries working for Edgar and most of them are pulling back, but we should keep our heads down for a couple of days until he can confirm how many have listened to him.” He turned to Gavin. “There's nothing we can do from here until you get us more info.”

Gavin nodded. “I'll see if I can get eyes on those cars that took the explosives. Otherwise I'll look through what we got from the Corpirate's place.”

“Good.”

A moment of silence. It felt strange not to have a solid plan, to once again just be waiting around for intel. And it looked like they'd be stuck here for a few more days at least.

Geoff's gaze turned to Ryan and the rest of them followed. Ryan looked around at all of them in turn and then gave a small smile.

“To answer the unspoken question... yeah. I'm in. If that's what you still want, that is.”

“Of course it is, you dope,” Gavin said softly, and Ryan's smile widened a little as he looked over at him.

“Should we...” Jack trailed off, then continued, “Discuss this, or something?”

Ray remembered the conversation the four of them had had when they all first got together. There'd been rather less talking when it came to Gavin. Now that they were all in, though, it still felt a little unfinished, unacknowledged.

But Ryan shook his head.

“Can we not?” he asked, a little hesitantly. “Can't we just... keep on keeping on and work this out as we go?”

He looked a little uncomfortable with the idea of sitting down and having a big old heart to heart about their feelings. Ray saw Jack glance over at Geoff, a little worriedly. Remembered his emphasis on communication, how he liked to have all the lines drawn out so everyone stayed informed and comfortable.

But Ryan was getting that tense look to his face again, like things were already moving too fast for him, and Geoff stepped forward and nodded.

“Sure,” he said, though it sounded like a compromise. Like they'd definitely be talking later, anyway. “I mean, you and Michael seemed to be going just fine before I came in.”

Michael grinned. “Yeah, I'm not complaining.”

Ryan relaxed a little, nodding.

“I think that's better,” he said. “Just... let things go as they go. We'll figure it out.” He winced a little, fingers coming up to touch his wounded arm, and Jack snapped into action.

“Let me have a look at that.”

“Your hands,” Michael said, turning to him – they looked pretty fucking terrible, the makeshift bandages already stained through with blood, and Ray could see Jack flinching every time he grabbed or touched something. “Better get that glass and shit out before it gets infected.”

“I'll grab the med kit,” Geoff said, leaving the room. Michael was already moving towards the kitchen to get water.

Ray hovered for a moment, feeling useless. Part of him still ached for Ryan's attention; wanted to catch his eye and at least get a smile. But he could see the other man already looking a little overwhelmed, moving to sit away from the others, and bit his lip, deciding to bide his time.

Geoff made his way back into the room, brandishing tweezers as he headed over to Jack, and Ray looked around again.

Gavin had disappeared at some point, and Ray abruptly recalled his decision to talk to the other man about what Michael had revealed to him that morning. Muttering a quick excuse to the other's, he left the room, heading out to go and find him.

 

* * *

 

The garage was cold and draughty, even with the doors shut, and Ray shivered a little as he crossed the concrete floor towards the computer setup. The rain was louder here, thundering noisily against the corrugated metal doors.

Gavin was sitting with his feet drawn up on his chair, swinging idly. The hard drive was on the desk before him but he wasn't doing anything with it, just sitting, lost in thought. Ray frowned a little. The sight abruptly reminded him of when he and Ryan had gone down to check on Gavin just before he ran off to Edgar.

“Gav?”

The other man jumped violently when Ray came up behind him and laid a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, Ray,” he replied, shifting to sit properly. Ray frowned a little – Gavin was wearing a woollen jumper but it was fucking _cold_ down here; he was feeling it even through his own layers.

“You're gonna freeze out here. Can't you move that shit inside?”

“I'm fine,” Gavin replied, glancing at the door back into the house. It was pretty obvious that he didn't want to be around the others, for whatever reason, and Ray's frown deepened. _Why?_

“Are you okay?” he asked, sensing something was off.

Gavin didn't reply. He looked over at the computer, his hand moving over to grasp the hard drive, but he did nothing with it. Just toyed with it idly as though lost in thought again.

Something was wrong, and Ray couldn't think what or why. Gavin had been fine just that morning, and even in the mansion when things went to shit he'd seemed alright. Michael hadn't said anything about things going particularly wrong on their end.

He pulled up a slightly grubby plastic garden chair from the other end of the garage and sat down, leaning forward. Gavin was still looking away, seeming deeply preoccupied by something, and Ray reached out and squeezed his arm.

“Vav? You're kinda worrying me here. Is something wrong?”

“I don't know,” Gavin replied, in a small voice.

“That's... not very informative,” Ray said, then shook himself. “Do you wanna, uh, talk about it?”

Gavin paused, then shook his head, and Ray tried to ignore the way his heart sank a little. He'd thought that once they all got together it would be all barriers down. That the others – Gavin and Ryan – would let them in, would let them _help_ them. That they could be more open with each other.

It was naïve, he saw that now. An unrealistic expectation. It would take time, he knew, for that trust to develop, even if they were in a relationship now.

“Can I hug you?” he asked instead.

Gavin actually smiled a little at that, seeming amused by his asking permission.

“Hugs would be good,” he replied, and Ray grinned before reaching out to pull him into an embrace. _That_ felt good, that alleviated a little of the hollow ache that had built in his chest. He let one hand rise to smooth against Gavin's hair, relished the feel of the other's arms coming up around his back to hold him tighter.

They were still _together_ , even if Gavin wasn't telling him everything just yet. That was something.

“You can tell me when you're ready,” he said, softly, and Gavin pulled back a little.

“I don't... it's not that,” he said, biting his lip as he looked away again. “I don't... I thought I saw... I might be wrong. It might be nothing. But telling you would make it _something_ , even if it isn't. Does that make sense?”

“I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about,” Ray said, and Gavin scoffed a little. After thinking about it for a moment, though, Ray thought he figured what he was getting at.

“You mean you're afraid to confirm whether you should be worried about it or not? In case it does turn out you should?”

“I'm scared in general,” Gavin admitted, and Ray rubbed his arm.

“Hey. That's okay, you know. I am too. Edgar's got some plan involving all these explosives and we... we didn't stop him today. We're just sitting here until either we find him or he does something. We'd be idiots not to be worried.”

“You don't seem scared of much,” Gavin pointed out, and Ray shrugged.

“I hide it well,” he said. “But trust me, I'll be shitting my pants if Edgar comes after us with that ordnance. Sheezus.”

“There are scarier things than explosives,” Gavin said quietly. “Like bloody Edgar himself.” He shivered and it wasn't from the cold; Ray frowned a little.

He didn't like this. Gavin hinting at all these terrible things, things that were obviously still hanging over his head, yet refusing to go into more detail about them. It only made him feel more and more helpless. Especially since everyone else seemed to know what had happened.

He remembered suddenly why he'd originally come down here.

“There was something else I wanted to talk to you about,” he said. “This morning, you, uh, kinda ran out on us. And Michael told me why you always get dressed in another room.”

Gavin stiffened a bit, but nodded.

“Yeah,” was all he said.

Ray bit his lip. “He didn't, um, tell me how you got them. I don't know, if you... if you don't want to talk about it that's cool. But if you do... I'm always here to listen, you know that.”

“I know.” Gavin was quiet a moment, then sighed, rubbing his hands over his face. “Just... not now. I can't do it right now, Ray. You can ask Michael to tell you if you want.”

That was true, but suddenly he wanted to hear it from Gavin, to know the other trusted him enough to share it. He felt ashamed with himself suddenly, for his impatience, his neediness.

He was confused, too. Literally the other day Gavin had been able to tell Michael. So why not him?

Something had obviously changed. Gavin still looked worried, like something was eating away at him. And Ray was concerned, sure, but suddenly he wondered if he was pushing too hard and fast, if he just wanted Gavin to open up to him for his _own_ gain, so _he_ could feel like he was needed and trusted.

Biting his lip, he got up.

“I'll leave you to it, then,” he said, but hesitated. Part of him anticipated Gavin asking him to stay. Surely he couldn't possibly want to be left by himself.

But Gavin just nodded, curling in on himself again. Ray felt a sick sort of disappointment rise in his chest.

He'd thought everything would be fine and good once they all got together. That no one would have to be alone. No one would _want_ to be alone. Like they'd all learnt some Disney-movie life lesson that things were better _together_.

Apparently not. He felt stupid suddenly, like he'd overestimated himself and all the rest.

Trying to shake it off, he pulled his jacket off and draped it around Gavin's shoulders. The other man looked up, startled, and Ray gave him a small smile.

“I have another inside. Come in if it gets too cold, okay?”

Gavin nodded, giving him a smile back. He pulled the jacket tighter around him and then beckoned Ray forward. When he leaned in Gavin closed the distance between them and gave him a quick kiss on the lips; Ray's grin widened a bit. It still sent his heart racing every time – all of them did.

“Thanks Ray,” Gavin said quietly, and Ray nodded.

He cast the other a worried glance over his shoulder as he headed back inside. Just this morning he'd thought they'd been making so much progress but suddenly – despite Ryan joining – suddenly he wasn't so sure.

 

* * *

 

It felt weird to just be sitting around again, especially in this foreign house. Ray found himself hanging about cleaning his weapons and talking with the others. That was nice, at least. He was quiet himself, exhausted from the long day and his own thoughts, but it was good to just hang out and listen to the others. The way Michael and Geoff laughed over TV shows and Ryan regaled them all with a few tales of his past missions. Geoff and Jack seemed to have a bottomless wealth of terrible Felix stories.

They didn't bring up the newness of their relationship, but it was there in every look and touch. The small glances all of them cast Ryan. How he smiled almost shyly every time. It was strange seeing him without the mask in this environment. Ray couldn't stop looking at him, transfixed.

_Five people. We've been hunting down some lunatic in a cow mask for months now, nearly died a dozen times. And somehow I managed to find the time to fall for five different people, including the mad mercenary_. It felt a little unreal.

Gavin came back in after a little while and sat down at Ryan's feet, back right against the heater.

Geoff looked up at him. “That jacket made of cotton?”

“I don't bloody know,” Gavin replied, twisting his neck to try and look at the label only to give up immediately. “Why?”

“You're gonna set yourself on fire, buddy.”

“Nah.”

“Saying 'nah' will not make your clothes less flammable,” Geoff warned. “I don't trust Felix's appliances.”

“You're the one who brought us to stay in this house!” Gavin said, rolling his eyes, but shifted to lean against Ryan's legs instead. The other man brought a hand down and squirrelled his fingers through Gavin's hair; Gavin pressed into the touch, closing his eyes.

“He'll start fucking purring in a minute,” Michael said, sounding amused.

“Ryan,” Gavin said then, looking up at him. “Do you believe in spontaneous combustion?”

“Do I... do I _believe_ in it? It's a scientific thing, Gavin, it happens whether I believe in it or not.”

“No, I mean like of _people._ Spontaneous _human_ combustion. I heard that sometimes old people just randomly set on fire and they don't know why; maybe it's the gases in them or something.”

“The... gases... okay.”

Ray, watching, smiled a bit, but couldn't help the weird tug in his chest as he watched the two of them. How despite how out of sorts Gavin had been behaving earlier, here in the house, talking with Ryan, he was falling back towards his usual self. Relaxing more around them.

Again he wondered at the different levels of interaction between them. He still felt closer to Michael than all the rest. He knew Jack and Geoff were still closer to each other. And now Ryan and Gavin as well.

And he wanted this – he wanted it _so_ badly; his feelings for all the rest of them were strong, but he couldn't even ask himself if these different degrees in the relationship were normal because _none_ of it was remotely normal.

Despite any of his worries, that evening was good. There was a strange sort of domesticity to the rest of the night. Something comfortable in all of them being together – in _knowing_ that they were together – as they ate, and then lay about, taking the opportunity to rest and unwind after a rather stressful day. Ray found himself curled against Michael on the couch. Closed his eyes and savoured the warmth of the other's body against his, the trace of his fingers over his shoulders as he rubbed his back in a vague sort of massage. Being with Michael was reassuring, like a familiar blanket or a favourite gun.

After some time Geoff started to snore and Jack poked him vigorously until he woke up.

“Hey,” he said, nudging Geoff to sit up. “Go to bed. The couch will kill your back.”

“Mmm, what time is it?” Geoff fumbled for his phone on the coffee table and Ray stirred as well, looking around. They all seemed to be dozing off; except for Ryan. He was standing by the radiator, back to the rest of them, seeming lost in thought. Ray noticed absently that he'd put his mask back on at some point; it took him a second to realise it because he was so used to seeing him with it on anyway. He blinked a few times, wondering why. Oddly disappointed at it.

“Fuck, okay, bedtime,” Geoff said, yawning as he stood up from the couch. “Who's on watch?”

“I'll take first,” Ray found himself saying.

Geoff glanced at him, then nodded. “Okay.”

“I've got second,” Ryan added.

Geoff nodded. “In that case, I'm off to sleep. Jack, you coming?”

“In a minute,” Jack replied.

There was a slightly awkward moment as they seemed to dither about who would go to which bedroom; after a second Michael followed Geoff and Gavin walked off by himself, presumably assuming Jack would join him in the second room later. Ryan settled himself down in the armchair and Ray frowned a little.

_What are we doing,_ he wondered, again concerned about how their individual relationships would grow at different paces as they did different things. The thought preoccupied him even as he walked out onto the balcony to keep watch, switching the porch light on as he went.

The rain had stopped earlier that night after slowing to a dull drizzle. Everything smelled cold and crisp now, and he inhaled deeply, moving forward to lean against the porch rail. It was chilly out here but that kept him awake as he paced back and forth, trying to sort out his thoughts.

He was happy – of course he was happy – but he was also alarmed by how unsettled he'd felt since this morning. Even despite Ryan joining them. The fact that he hadn't had a chance to get the other man alone since they were in the house together – combined with Gavin retreating away from him – had him feeling suddenly unsure of himself.

The creak of the door had him whipping around, on-edge, but it was Jack who stepped out, hands raised.

“Hey, it's just me,” he said, and Ray relaxed, forcing a smile.

“Sorry,” he said. “Jumpy.”

“Don't worry about it.” Jack came up next to him and for a moment they stood in silence. Ray looked over at Jack and felt the sudden urge to tell him how he felt, those niggling insecurities. If anyone could help it was probably him.

But he feared suddenly that he might not be able to find the right words for it, that it would come across wrong.

“Hectic day,” Jack said after a while, and Ray nodded.

“You're telling me.”

“But I guess we got what we want in the end,” Jack continued, and smiled. “Ryan.”

Ray nodded.

“It feels better with him,” he said, but there was a stiffness to his voice he couldn't quite erase. Jack caught onto it immediately, turning to him with raised eyebrows.

“Everything alright?” he asked.

Ray hesitated.

“I talked to Gav today,” he admitted. “Michael told me about his scars, but I haven't seen them. I still don't know what happened. He wouldn't tell me.”

Jack pressed his lips together. “We have to give him time, Ray.”

“I know,” Ray said, “I'm not... I'm not trying to push him, just. I kind of thought we were close enough. Especially since he told Michael already.”

“I'm guessing Michael found out and he had to explain. The only reason Geoff knows is because I was the one to tell him.” Jack paused. “If Gavin said it's okay, I can tell you what happened.”

Ray paused.

“No,” he decided. “I'll wait 'till he's ready. I kind of feel like I should hear it from him.”

Jack smiled. He reached out and drew Ray closer, arms wrapped loosely around his waist.

“You're good for him,” he said, leaning in and kissing Ray on the forehead. Ray smiled a bit, not quite believing it. Jack pulled back a little, reaching up to cup Ray's cheeks, tilting his head up.

“Is that all that's bothering you?”

Ray couldn't help but scoff; Jack was far too observant for his own good. Then again, that was part of why Ray loved him. He hesitated, chewing his lip, trying to work out how to phrase what to say, if anything.

“I... I don't know if I'm doing this right,” he settled on.

It was true. There were so many of them that he kept feeling like he hadn't spent enough time with each of them. That he needed to 'catch up' somehow, to make up for the time Ryan had already spent with Gavin, that Jack had with Geoff. The thought of juggling all the different relationships was simultaneously exciting and a little overwhelming.

Jack's face softened.

“I don't think any of us know if we're doing this right,” he said.

Ray huffed. “You and Geoff seem to.”

Jack laughed. “We might be old and wise looking, but trust me, we're winging this as much as the rest of you. But we all...” he trailed off, looking very hesitant. Glanced over his shoulder like he was afraid someone was listening in before he leaned in close and said, quietly, “We all love each other. So we'll work it out.”

Ray's heart was pounding. The words sent an odd flutter through his stomach. _Love_. Jack had admitted it so easily; it startled him, even if he knew he held the same feelings himself.

“I don't want this to just be something we're trying,” Jack continued, “I want it to be something that works out – with _all_ of you. So let's not think the worst, okay? You're doing just fine. With us, and with Gavin, and with Ryan, too. He wouldn't have joined in if he wasn't sure about _all_ of us, yourself included.”

The words settled something in Ray; he smiled and tugged Jack down to kiss him again, on the lips this time, harder and deeper. Jack's hands gripped his waist, steadying him; he lost himself in the thundering beat of his heart and the broad strength of Jack's shoulders under his hands.

They pulled apart and he rested his head against Jack's chest, letting the other man pull him closer.

“How are you so good at reassuring everyone?” he chuckled, and Jack huffed out a laugh, a deep rumble against Ray's cheek.

“I guess I just have the magic touch,” he replied, and sighed. “You'll be okay on your own out here? I should get in and make sure Gavin's sleeping alright.”

Ray nodded. “I'm fine. Give him a kiss from me.”

“Will do,” Jack said, and pressed a final kiss to his forehead before heading back in.

 

* * *

 

Geoff needed to piss.

He needed to piss _so fucking badly oh my God_. But it was _cold_ outside and it was so nice and warm in here, under the covers. Michael pressed up against his side, his arms around Geoff's waist. Head resting just under his chin so the curly ends of his hair tickled his nose when he breathed.

That was good. That was all very, very good, but what was not good were the urgent needs of his bladder. With reluctance he detached himself from Michael's limbs. The other man gave a soft murmur, starting to open his eyes – they were all light sleepers, borne from habit in a dangerous profession, but when Geoff gently shushed him and pressed a kiss to his forehead he quickly dropped off again.

Geoff took a moment to look down at him in the dark, a fond smile spreading over his lips. The more time they spent together the more all of this became sure in his mind; he wanted them, _all_ of them. Individually and together, and every time he got to hit a new milestone with one of them, even something as menial as just sharing a bed, as it made something stupidly childish and happy bubble in his chest.

The house was chilly as he left the room, grimacing at the cold floors even through his socks as he hopped his way to the bathroom. He glanced at the time on his way out, realising that it was past three and that Ray would have gone to bed by now. He hadn't come in with he and Michael and Geoff walked out into the lounge in case he was there – even with the radiator on it would be cold on the couch without extra blankets – but the living room was empty. He must have gone to join Jack and Gavin then.

The porch light caught his attention and he glanced out to see Ryan keeping watch.

His breath stuttered a little.

Honestly, if Ryan hadn't made his own move on Jack Geoff probably would have grabbed him and kissed him himself. The sight of him recklessly risking his own life for Geoff's boyfriend had nearly made his heart stop; as with Ray it had struck him that if either one of them died he'd be devastated. It seemed near-death experiences had a habit of prompting them into sudden decisions.

He was glad, though, that it had been Ryan to make the move – he'd obviously been on the verge of it.

And now here they were. The six of them, together at last. It felt like it had been building up for months but Geoff was also all too aware that when it came down to it it had only been a matter of days for them to get together as a larger group – and he was also aware that could come with issues.

Ryan, he was most worried about.

The man had enough trust issues that he was likely to be overwhelmed by so much as _one_ person getting this close to him. Let alone five. With that in mind Geoff headed out onto the porch to join him.

“Hey,” he said, and then grimaced. It was _freezing_ out here; his breath misted in front of him immediately. The air felt damp and frigid, his nose and lips burning instantly in the cold air. “Fucking _fuck_ , did the next Ice Age come along while I was sleeping?”

“What are you doing?” Ryan asked, sounding a mix of amused and concerned. He glanced over at Geoff and shook his head. “You don't even have a jacket on; get inside.”

“I've come out to see how you were doing!” He hopped up and down on the spot, hands jammed under his armpits, and Ryan crossed the porch in two swift strides and grabbed his arm, propelling him back into the house.

“I mean it,” Ryan repeated, rolling his eyes. “The temperature dropped a couple of hours ago. It's way too cold to be outside dressed like that.”

“You got that right, I think my dick just froze. Just, solid ice. Like a popsicle.” He shivered, looking up to meet Ryan's eyes.

He had his mask on again.

Geoff wasn't sure what he had expected. For him to take it off permanently, he supposed, now that they were together – now that they'd all seen his face anyway. And he had, for a while, just after they got back, but some time after dinner he'd snuck it back on while they weren't looking and suddenly Geoff wondered if this was something that was going to last.

“I'd ask for a goodnight kiss,” he said, “But it's kinda hard when you're wearing that thing.”

He saw Ryan roll his eyes. “Subtle, Geoff.”

Geoff shrugged. “I try. So you gonna take it off?”

Ryan reached up and took the mask off, but there was something almost aggressive in the motion, and Geoff suddenly worried that he might have annoyed him. But he didn't look angry – just tired, and a little stressed, and Geoff again felt that odd urge of protectiveness. A need to smooth away the worry from his face, to make him smile again.

“That's better,” Geoff said. “See, you're so handsome, why would you constantly deprive the world of it?”

“You know why,” Ryan replied, sounding a little strained.

“Just complimenting you, dude.” Geoff stepped forward. Reached up to touch Ryan's cheek. He flinched a little then leaned into it with a soft intake of breath. There was something very vulnerable about it; the two of them standing here alone in the cold and the dark. Geoff kicked himself for rushing things, reminded himself that even at this stage he had to be patient.

“Is this okay?” he asked, and Ryan nodded quickly.

“Fine,” he said gruffly – and seeming almost embarrassed now, he took control quickly, grasping Geoff's face in his hands and pulling him close to press their lips together. He took advantage of the soft gasp Geoff let out to deepen the kiss, walking him a few steps back until his legs hit the couch and he abruptly fell onto it. Ryan moved with him, but the rhythm had been disrupted a little and he settled for pressing quick kisses against Geoff's lips, tracking along his jaw. Geoff let out a helpless murmur, reaching up to grasp at Ryan's shoulders.

“Shit,” he hissed out, choking back a rather unmanly groan, “Okay, you – ah – I see now how you got Gav so flustered so quickly.”

Ryan chuckled a little, but pulled back. “Yeah, well, unlike Gavin I don't kiss and tell. Too fast?”

“No,” Geoff replied, but the mood had been broken now. He pulled the couch throw up around his shoulders; it was still chilly even if his heart was racing now and he felt a bit breathless. “Honestly? I thought we'd be pulling teeth to get affection out of you.”

Ryan snorted. “Right. I wouldn't have joined you if I wasn't sure, you know.”

“Are you?” Geoff asked, and Ryan stiffened a bit.

“What?”

“Are you sure?”

Ryan pulled away but Geoff grabbed his shoulder, keeping him still on the couch.

“I'm just checking,” he said quietly. “I know you don't want a big discussion about this but... I need to know. This is what you want, right? I know it's been hard for you, getting close to us even without this... relationship... being involved. And it hasn't been all that long, when you think about it.”

Ryan had gone stiff, but he nodded.

“I'm sure,” he said, but it came out harder than Geoff liked. “There's no use fighting what I feel any longer.”

Geoff let him go but he didn't move. Just slumped against the couch and ran his hands over his face a few times before keeping them there, pressed over his eyes like a substitute for his mask.

“I trust you, you know,” Geoff said finally. It seemed like it would mean more than anything else he could think of, and after a moment Ryan nodded and dropped his hands, looking over at Geoff with tired eyes.

“I know. I trust you too.”

Geoff smiled, and stood, ready for that to be the end of it – but as Ryan got up too he pulled his mask out and put it on again, and Geoff stiffened. Something still just felt _wrong_ about that, especially in light of what Ryan had _just_ said to him.

“So why are you still wearing that thing then?” He blurted it out before he could quite stop himself, and Ryan, halfway to the door, paused. Looked back over his shoulder at Geoff, but in the bad lighting and covered as his face was, Geoff couldn't tell what he was thinking. Could see nothing but the blank mien of that terrible skull before Ryan turned away again and walked out without answering.

_Shit_ , Geoff thought, kicking himself.

Things had been going almost too smoothly but even then he hadn't expected to fuck things up so soon. Still, he didn't feel that Ryan was angry with him, just that he'd hit a wall that for some reason he'd expected to have come down with the others.

_Don't get ahead of yourself_. Letting out a sigh, he headed back to the bedroom. When he slipped under the covers Michael immediately huddled back into his side, half-asleep but already seeking his warmth, and Geoff took comfort in the other's touch, in having at least one person now to pull close to his side, even if he'd messed up a bit with another.

 

* * *

  

“Gav?"

Geoff cursed as he stepped out into the garage. Morning had dawned clear but terribly cold, and he could practically feel the icicles forming on the ends of his moustache as he stepped through the concrete room.

Gavin had a number of blankets pulled up around his shoulders where he sat at the computers, diligently working away. Geoff set a steaming mug of tea down next to him and leaned in to kiss his forehead. He hadn't seen the other all morning; he'd gotten up early and set to work, passing a message to the rest of them through Ryan not to bother him while he was 'in the zone'.

“Thanks,” Gavin replied, one hand worming its way out from his blanket nest to grab the mug. “Before you ask, no, I don't have anything yet. It's slow progress. A lot of the stuff on the hard drive is encrypted and I'm having a bitch of a time getting in.”

“These aren't exactly five star working conditions,” Geoff said, glancing around. “You can't move that stuff indoors?”

“Not enough power points. I'm fine, the cold's not bothering me.”

“That's all well and good, Elsa, but that nose is a magnet for frostbite,” Geoff teased, flicking it and then laughing at Gavin's indignant squeak. “Actually, let's hope it falls off. It might be an improvement.”

“You suck,” Gavin replied. “It's not cold enough for _frostbite_ you mong. I hope your moustache freezes right off your face.”

“Ouch,” Geoff said, clapping a hand to his heart. “Someone's full of the vinegar today.”

Gavin smiled, but there were dark bags under his eyes and Geoff frowned a little. Jack had told him that last night Gavin's nightmares had returned with a vengeance; that he'd been awake most of the night even if he was pretending not to be and nothing Jack said or did could get him to sleep, or to talk about it. Geoff wasn't sure if this was just part of the cycle of things or if something had triggered it; either way Gavin didn't exactly look the happiest this morning.

“You doing okay?” he asked carefully, and the way Gavin's eyes flickered to his almost nervously only confirmed his suspicions. _Something's wrong_.

“I'm fine,” Gavin replied, almost too quickly.

“No you're not,” Geoff said. “What's wrong? Want to talk about it?”

Gavin's face hardened a little, seeming almost annoyed by his pushing. “ _No_.”

“Why not?” Geoff challenged then.

Gavin just bit his lip, turning away. He looked – _scared_ , now, Geoff realised, with a sinking sort of feeling. Scared but stubborn, and it was a look Geoff recognised easily from all the times Gavin dodged talking about his scars, his time with Barry. Like he knew he needed help but refused to seek it out because that meant talking about things, dredging up things that would hurt even if it was necessary to help heal later.

“You killed a bunch of people at the Corpirate's, right?” Gavin asked abruptly, and Geoff nodded, frowning a little at the change in topic.

“Yeah. All of them except about four who got away in the cars.”

“Four,” Gavin murmured, eyes growing distant, as though struggling to work out some complex problem.

“Gav?” Geoff prompted.

Gavin's eyes snapped up to his. Guarded and tense now. “Was one of the ones who got away a guy in a blue coat?”

“I didn't exactly stop to analyse their fashion choices,” Geoff replied, a little flustered. “You mean the guy with the grenade launcher? Ray killed him.”

“No, he was wearing a green parka.”

“Okay, Tim Gunn. I don't know. Like I said, I don't notice that shit. Why? What's all this about?”

“Nothing,” Gavin replied, turning away. “Probably nothing.”

“It's not nothing if you're stressing out about it.”

“Please leave it, Geoff.” There was something distressed in it, something pleading – and Gavin closed off after that, turning pointedly back to his work. Geoff stared at him for a long moment, but was ignored, and after a minute he gave a soft sigh. Torn between pushing him and giving him space, he decided on the latter – for now anyway – and headed back inside.

 

* * *

 

“Gavin's acting strange,” he told Jack, as soon as he got back inside and found his boyfriend alone. Ryan was off somewhere and the other lads had gone out for groceries. It felt strange to all be split up again; part of Geoff wanted all six of them to just be together, no matter what they were doing. But that was logistically impossible and ridiculous besides.

Jack raised his eyebrows. “What sort of strange?”

“ _There's-something-wrong_ sort of strange.”

“Oh. That's... not good.”

“You're telling me.” A pause. “He won't talk to me about it.”

“Geoff,” Jack chided, gently, moving to rest his hands on the other's hips. “Give him time. It's only been a couple of days since he _joined_ us, he's... he's not going to just open up to us instantly.”

“I know, but...” he trailed off, frustrated. “Maybe I'm being impatient but we're his _boyfriends_ , for God's sake. He knows we'd do anything we fucking needed to to keep him safe. I know he trusts us. I don't know. It's the same with Ryan and that mask; I guess I just thought once we were together they'd be more...”

Jack sighed. “Maybe that's how it should have gone. Let them open up first _then_ get together with them. But we work with what we have for now. He's making more progress than he was before just by taking it off around us. Be patient.”

“Easier said than done,” Geoff said, but sighed, knowing the other was right. “I just hate not being able to help Gav.”

“I know.”

“And Ryan with that God damn mask.”

“He's working through things,” Jack said, but sighed a little. Geoff could tell he was a bit disappointed too, that Ryan was still keeping these literal barriers up between them despite all the other ways he'd let himself open up.

Things remained like that, undercut by an odd sort of tension, even when the other two got back and Ryan emerged from the house to stand out on the porch again. Mask firmly on. It didn't help that Gavin kept himself locked away in the garage the entire day, dismissing anyone who came to him as he steadily worked away.

They had been happy the night before, relaxed, but Geoff felt oddly unsettled now, and did not like it. Things would take time, he knew, but here and now it felt like Gavin had begun pushing them away for no reason, and it was putting a damper even on his growing relationship with the others.

 

* * *

  

“Why did you text me when we're literally in the same house?” Ray asked, only to pause in the doorway to the bedroom. “What the fuck, Michael.”

Michael broke down laughing; he'd been reclined very dramatically across the bed, covered merely by a suggestively placed sheet. “Draw me... like one of... your French girls, Ray,” he gasped out between chuckles, and Ray rolled his eyes as he stalked over to the bed.

“You're lame,” he said, tossing his phone onto the bedside table. “I like that your idea of setting the mood is a shitty Titanic reference and a _text message_.”

“But it was such a sexy text message.”

“It literally just said ' _come to the bedroom_ '. There wasn't even a full stop.”

“I'm sorry,” Michael said. He leaned forward, one hand coming up to rest against Ray's chest. “I'll be sure to remember that for next time. Gotta have all that _sensual_ punctuation _._ ”

“Jesus Christ.”

“Those semi colons, man... they just fill me with passion. Oh God, the nubile curve of that question mark...” he trailed off into a horribly exaggerated moan and Ray couldn't help but laugh.

“You're ridiculous,” he said, and kissed him just to shut him up. Michael kissed back eagerly, practically crawling into his lap as he tried to get closer. Ray closed his eyes, letting himself fall for a moment into the feeling of Michael's hands roaming up under his shirt, tracing soft patterns against his skin; the heat of his mouth against his. The warm bare skin of his back under Ray's fingertips.

He broke back, panting. “Let me at least shut the door.”

“Aw,” Michael said, falling back against the bed as Ray got up. “Why bother? The others might hear and come to join in.”

He was joking but Ray froze anyway, struck by the thought.

“Ray?” Michael prompted.

“Sorry, I...” he trailed off, swallowing, as he closed the door and came back over to the bed. “Kinda thinking about that.”

“It's fine if you're not ready yet,” Michael said immediately, concern written all over his face, but Ray just shook his head.

“I don't know,” he answered honestly. Because he didn't. If any of the others came onto him he didn't think he'd turn it down – knew he wanted that, deep inside, alongside all the other ways they were growing closer by the day – but neither was he actively seeking to sleep with any of them. He was willing to just take it as it came.

With all the others except Michael, that was. Michael was different, and again it struck him, that odd feeling that they were still on a different level to the others. That they might be a six but they were still made up of different combinations at different levels of progress and _is it meant to be like this?_

“How about you?” he asked then, and Michael shrugged.

“I like them. I want to be with them.” He grinned. “So basically I'm easy.” A pause. “In every sense of the word. Bahahaha.”

Ray rolled his eyes, but even Michael's humour couldn't quite settle his unease.

“You don't think it's gonna be weird? Us being on different levels like that? And I'm not just talking about sex, it's...” he trailed off. “I don't know. Like you and Jack are, are kind of closer than I am still.”

“Ray.” Michael's voice was soft, the laughter fading from his tone. His hand on the side of Ray's neck gentler now. “Of course it's not weird. Of course we're moving at different paces. You do whatever the fuck you're comfortable with. You realise they probably feel the same, right? Jack's probably like,” here he adopted a deep, rather terrible impersonation of Jack, “ _Ooh, Michael's closer to Ray than I am, Ray's closer to Gav._ Like shit, dude, we'll work it out, okay?”

Ray couldn't help but chuckle, nodding. Michael seemed so blissfully confident of things that it reassured him.

“Besides,” Michael added, “I doubt Gavin's gonna be ready for the six-way gay fuckfest for a little while.”

“Please don't call it that,” Ray laughed, and Michael grinned.

“Why not? It's epic. How about the _ultimate_ six-way gay fuckfest?”

“That's even worse, Jesus-”

He was quickly distracted by Michael leaning in to kiss him again; and gave into it, letting the other man push him back against the mattress in a move more heated and frantic than the last time.

 

* * *

 

Ryan was sitting alone in the living room when Ray crossed through to get to the kitchen. He looked up at Ray's entrance and gave a small wave; he'd been on the couch with a book in hand. Ray looked around for the others and found none of them there. He felt oddly nervous as he returned with his glass of water and, after dithering a moment, sat down opposite Ryan.

“Alright?” Ryan asked, looking a little amused at Ray's hesitance.

Ray nodded. It was stupid to feel so skittish, he knew. After all they were in a _relationship_ now. But it still felt strange, new; he hadn't gotten Ryan alone yet. Yet again too many combinations of people that he'd struggled to balance.

“We haven't really talked,” he said, awkwardly, and to his surprise Ryan nodded.

“I know. I've been waiting for a chance to get you alone.”

“You have?”

“Don't sound so shocked, Ray.” There was amusement in Ryan's voice, but also something softer. “I'm getting into this with five people. Of course I want to spend time with all of them.”

“It's a bit of a juggling game,” Ray said, before he could really think about it, but Ryan just nodded again.

“You're right. It is. But you know, juggling's pretty easy once you practice it enough.” A small chuckle. “Much like shooting a gun or stabbing someone in the jugular.”

“You're creepy as shit, Ryan,” Ray said, shaking his head, but couldn't help laughing. Then noticing, aloud, “You're wearing your mask.”

“That is true,” Ryan replied, but all amusement had faded from his tone.

Ray glanced at him. “We're indoors.”

“That is also true.”

“You gonna take it off so I can kiss you?” He played it off as a joke even if something uneasy had risen in his chest.

Ryan let out a little sigh. “You lot are insatiable, aren't you?”

“Hey, I haven't had my turn yet!” Ray protested, trying not to let it come out as vulnerable as he suddenly felt. Ryan was pulling his mask off, though, and Ray smiled. And then felt suddenly shy when exposed to his bare face, like Ryan could see too much into him – like he'd wanted this but hadn't quite thought this far ahead – shy the way he'd felt kissing Gavin the first time, Jack too.

Ryan caught on quickly.

“Hey,” he said. His fingers came up to grip Ray's chin, very gently, tilting his face up to meet his eyes properly. His thumb stroked over Ray's cheek, careful and delicate in a way Ray honestly hadn't expected; he'd seen Ryan kiss Gavin and there'd been something aggressive in it, something overly passionate. The same with Michael. But this here and now was gentle and sweet. Like Ryan was just as unsure as he suddenly was.

He leaned in; Ryan did too. And felt that odd settling peace when their lips touched. Like finally he felt a part of this group of six, like they were all on the same page. It wasn't just the kiss, he knew, but everything else. The way Ryan's fingers touched him carefully, almost gingerly, like he was exploring something fragile. Ray could take hard and rough, he knew he wasn't breakable, but there was something nice about that. Especially coming from Ryan, Ryan who he had been the least sure of, who he had wondered at the start if he had misjudged. Ryan, the last.

Ryan's hands slipped to his shoulders when they pulled apart. He let out a low laugh and Ray glanced up at him.

“What?”

“Your shirt's on back to front,” Ryan said, sounding very amused, and Ray couldn't do much more than chuckle. Why be embarrassed, he realised then, they'd be doing the same and more eventually.

“These things become irrelevant in the face of the mind-blowing sex I just had,” he replied drily, and Ryan laughed again, something startled and very genuine in it.

“Wow, okay. Michael's that good then?”

“Ten out of ten would bang again,” Ray said, grinning, and Ryan shook his head, smiling fondly.

“You're raising the expectations really high there.”

“Yeah, well. I'm confident we'll meet them.” It was easier joking about it then thinking about it seriously – joking about it _made_ it easier to think about it seriously – with those few of his worries abated it was simple to let the others slip away. To not let himself stress out thinking about all the ways things would move along eventually, whether they were ready or not. That would come as it did. YOLO, as they say.

Ryan smiled again. Then, out of force of habit it seemed, reached up to adjust his mask, found it gone, and then, after a slightly awkward pause pulled it back on.

Ray's grin faded a little. He couldn't deny that he enjoyed seeing Ryan without it, that openness that reinforced the fact that he trusted them all. That _he_ was a part of it – Ryan, not the mad mercenary, not the professional killer who could take down a dozen people with ease. Their Ryan, funny Ryan who could be sweet and gentle and fiercely protective.

He bit his lip, turning away to head back to Michael. Knew Ryan had seen his momentary upset and fought the urge to look back over his shoulder.

He passed the door to the garage and hesitated, peering inside. He could see the back of Gavin's head where he had been sitting all day, avoiding the rest of them. He was still hunched over his screens now. There was something lonely about that single figure at the other end of the room, surrounded only by machines. Ray frowned a bit.

He could blame it on work all he wanted but there was no denying that Gavin had been oddly distant from the rest of them since they returned from the Corpirate's mansion. Considering that all of his terrible coping mechanisms seemed to involve closing himself off and bottling things down, it was not exactly promising, and Ray frowned a little, hating the frustration of being unable to help. Of being so out of the loop.

He turned away, biting his lip. Still unsure what to do.

 

* * *

 

Geoff was exhausted by the time night fell. He'd spent the latter half of the day making calls and driving part of the way back to Achievement City to meet with Kdin, trying to organise people staying on watch around the city, to keep an eye out for the explosives' movements, though he knew it was likely a futile exercise.

Gavin, it seemed, had had an equally fruitless day. He stayed out in the garage the entire afternoon, didn't even come in to eat with them, and he was still out there by the time they'd organised the watch and were heading off to bed.

It fell on Geoff to drag him inside to come and sleep.

“I was really getting somewhere, Geoff,” Gavin grumbled, as Geoff led him by the hand down the corridor.

Geoff shook his head. “It's freezing, you're tired, and you've been staring at that screen all day.”

Gavin let out an irritated sort of mumble and Geoff glanced over at him. He still seemed preoccupied, worried by something, but was making no move to talk about it. Again Geoff felt that flash of almost irritation; not so much directed towards Gavin as towards his stubbornness. _Just let us fucking help you._ Please _._

“Where's Ryan?” Gavin asked, glancing around the empty bedroom. They'd split up into smaller groups again, Jack on first watch. Michael and Ray together as usual.

“He's sleeping in the lounge again. If he's even sleeping, that is.” Geoff couldn't help the way his mouth twisted a little; even if he refused to take the mask off he'd hoped Ryan would at least come in and sleep with them. Maybe even that was moving too fast.

Gavin nodded. He started to get into bed but Geoff grabbed his arm.

“Dude, get changed first.”

“It's too cold.”

“You won't get any sleep in that many layers, come on.”

Gavin rolled his eyes, but grabbed his bag. He started to head for the door but Geoff got there first and shut it.

“Just change in here.”

Gavin froze. He stared up at Geoff, suspicion in his eyes. It quickly morphed into something like anger.

“What are you doing?” he asked, stiffly.

Geoff stared back at him. His heart was pounding but all he could think was _stop hiding, stop hiding, let me help you_.

“You remember what I said,” he said, slowly. “Back at Ryan's place.”

“What, that time you held me down and forced me to show you things I didn't want to?” Gavin spat.

The amount of venom in his tone made Geoff flinch. _It wasn't like that_ . He hadn't thought Gavin held that against him – thought he'd realised at the time that he was trying to help. Thought he _had_ helped; Gavin had never brought it up as an issue since.

“Gavin...” he stepped forward. Reached to touch the other's shoulder but stopped, stricken, when he flinched. Things had deteriorated very quickly. “Gavin, I don't know what's going on but something's up with you. Let me help. You _know_ that keeping this shit to yourself doesn't get you anywhere. Just makes it worse. Come on, you have to-”

“I have to what? Face up to it?” Gavin's voice was rising but he sounded stressed as much as he sounded angry. Like he'd been dwelling on this all day, whatever it was, and was reaching a breaking point. “Maybe I don't _want_ to face up to it Geoff, maybe I just want it to _stop_. Maybe I'm fucking sick of fighting all the time.”

“Where's this coming from?” Geoff demanded – frantically trying to work out what had happened, what could have triggered this downward turn, but Gavin just shook his head, eyes burning – then pushed past him and opened the door, storming out of the room.

Geoff took a deep breath before following him, wondering how badly he'd just fucked up.

Gavin had marched directly to the kitchen and he was reaching into the grocery bag of liquor that Ray and Michael had brought back from the shops. Geoff lunged forward immediately and tried to grab his wrist but Gavin dodged out of the way, the side of the bottle he was holding clanging noisily against the countertop.

“Gavin,” Geoff said sternly. “We've talked about this. You can't just drink your problems away and hope ignoring things fixes them.”

“It sure as hell makes it easier though,” Gavin replied, fumbling for a glass. His hands were shaking so hard that he could barely keep a grip on the bottle and Geoff reached out and grabbed his shoulders.

“Jesus Christ, Gav, what the fuck brought this on? Will you just fucking _tell_ me-”

Gavin squirmed out from his grip. Maybe it hadn't been the best approach but he was _worried_.

“I don't want to talk about it.” Gavin's voice tight and desperate. “Not right now, not _ever_ if possible, I don't want to bloody _think_ about it but shit just keeps coming up, doesn't it? None of it will ever just leave me alone, it keeps coming _back_ -”

“Gavin-”

Abandoning the glass Gavin took a swig straight from the bottle. Annoyed, Geoff grabbed for it. Snatched it from him hard enough that they both got splashed and Gavin coughed a little as he swallowed.

“Stop that,” Geoff ordered. “You don't have to deal with this shit alone, you _know_ that-”

He broke off when Gavin jabbed a finger at his chest, hard. His eyes were red with exhaustion and upset, and his voice was very cold when he spoke.

“Just because we're together,” Gavin said, “Doesn't mean you can tell me what to do.”

Geoff's mouth dropped open; he felt like he'd been hit in the chest with a sledgehammer. Before he could reply Gavin turned on his heel and stalked off towards the garage. The fact that he left the bottle behind was the only reason Geoff let him go, that and the shock.

_That's not how it is, that's not how it is,_ was all he could think. Letting out a low curse, he slammed his fist against the counter.

_God fucking shit damn it_.

Fucking hell, he'd thought they were _over_ this. And he knew, _knew_ that these things were never just an uphill journey, that there were slips and slides and regressions on the road to recovery. But this one, this one had obviously been prompted by something, and he couldn't _help_ if he didn't know _what_.

Things had been going so _well_.

_What the fuck happened?_

He turned, running his hands over his face, only to freeze at the sight of a figure in the other room.

Ryan was standing in the lounge, watching – he'd seen the whole encounter. Now he and Geoff stared at each other for a long moment. And God – it was stupid deep down, because he loved Ryan, _God_ he knew he did – but at that moment Geoff felt a sudden burning anger. The mask made him look impassive, uncaring, as he stood there doing nothing but observe, and a resentment overtook Geoff.

“Thanks for fucking helping back there, Ryan,” he said harshly, and marched by him, heading to bed alone.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sadspacebear drew this [adorable doodle](http://sadspacebear.tumblr.com/post/105062176960/were-just-a-means-to-an-end-for-you-right) for the story; thank you so much~ <3


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Christmas everyone! Here is an extra (and long) chapter. I hope you all have/had a great holiday! :)
> 
> **T/W: Disturbing/violent imagery. Panic attacks.**

Jack shuddered as he stepped back into the house. The sudden switch from the freezing outdoors to the heated living room made him feel a little sick, but it was a relief to be warm again.

“Ryan?” he called out quietly, only to frown as the other man looked up from where he was sitting on the couch, hands clasped in front of him. Head down as though lost in thought.

He'd expected him to be sleeping.

They tried to rotate watches evenly but Ryan seemed to be claiming one every night. And sitting there as he was it hardly looked as though he'd just woken up, more like he hadn't slept at all.

Jack moved to sit next to him. “Did you get _any_ sleep?”

Ryan just shrugged and Jack frowned. He reached out to touch the other's shoulder but Ryan spoke before he could make contact.

“Something's up with Gavin.” There was something quick and quiet in his voice. Jack let his hand fall.

“What?”

“He had an argument with Geoff.” Ryan gestured towards the kitchen and Jack frowned, confused and a little alarmed. “Tried to start drinking again, I... I don't know exactly what was going on, but Gav was upset about something.”

“I... okay.” Jack frowned a little. There was no denying Gavin had been a bit off recently, but this news of a fight was unsettling. What was also unusual was Ryan's very vague knowledge of events; Jack knew the other man was perceptive. For him to not have already figured out what was going on, or at least know what the fight had properly been about, was strange. And Ryan seemed distracted now, conflicted almost. As though he was lost in thought, not quite registering Jack's presence beside him.

“Ryan? Is everything alright?”

There was something terrible about the fact that he was still worried to touch Ryan, that he was hesitant to reach out and lay a hand on his shoulder. He did so anyway and frowned when he found the other tense.

It was as he'd told Geoff. Maybe this all should have been the other way around; maybe complete trust should have come _before_ entering a relationship instead of getting together with Ryan – Gavin too – and then hoping they’d open up the rest of the way. Even now there was something tentative and unsure in it. But when Ryan had kissed him back at the mansion Jack couldn't wait any longer; there had been something desperate in it, something lonely and grasping that had him feeling as though he had to reach out _now_ , snatch this chance and build from it while they could.

Ryan was too quiet now, still not answering his question. Something about that hurt; Jack had thought he'd open up more. And things had been going _well_ , or he'd thought so anyway, even since they came back to the house. Finding their footing with each other, balancing this, the six of them.

Or perhaps not as well as he'd thought.

“I didn't step in,” Ryan said eventually. His voice very calm now, offering flat explanation.

Jack nodded, slowly. “Okay. Where are they now?”

“Geoff's in the bedroom. Gavin's in the garage.”

“You didn't go after him.”

Ryan shook his head. “No.” He looked up at Jack then and suddenly Jack was acutely aware of the fact that he had his mask on again. It was dark in the house and they were alone. There was no reason for it to be on. “I didn't.”

“Why?” He held Ryan's gaze, the little he could see of his eyes behind the black skull.

Ryan was the one to look away first. He shifted on the couch, staring out towards the kitchen, focused on nothing. It took him a moment to answer. When he did there was a stiffness to his voice like he was worried how Jack would react to his words.

“Because I know Gavin. He's like me. We... we care about you greatly. We trust you. But it's hard. Being alone for so long, so closed off. There are things we might want to do but can't bring ourselves to yet. There are times when it's better to be alone. It can get... overwhelming.” The last word slow, turned over in his mouth like he didn't like the taste of it.

_Overwhelming_ . Jack could understand that, of course he could; even now despite his reassurances to the others he was struggling a little to balance everything out. Kept feeling like he was stretched a bit thin trying to keep tabs on everybody, to move things along and not leave anyone behind. He hid it well but it was there, a little lurking uncertainty.

But this – now – he could understand Ryan even if he didn't perhaps identify with it. A longing was there, behind his words. Like if Ryan could he would switch off his uncertainties and give himself to them completely. But walls took time to come down no matter how much you wanted them to.

And Gavin had walls too; Jack knew his reluctance to let them help him. How he hid away, preferred to ignore things rather than face up to them.

“You know you can take as long as you need,” he said, quietly.

Ryan shrugged a bit.

“You say that now,” he muttered. “But it might... it could take... you'll grow tired eventually.”

“Jesus Christ, Ry, don't say that.” He did touch him now, ran a hand down his shoulder before shifting closer to him on the couch, tucking his arm around the other man. “Trust me, we knew what we were getting into with you. And God knows nothing about this whole relationship is normal, we... we're gonna take things slowly. As slow as you need.”

“And this?” Ryan gestured to his face, to the mask.

Jack bit his lip. He couldn't deny that he was disappointed that the other man didn't at least take it off around them now, considering he had before.

But he forced himself to be patient. He couldn't know what was going through Ryan's head, after all.

“I know you have your reasons,” he replied, “For doing what you do. If you still feel like you need to wear that thing, that's your call. Just... take it off now and then at least, will you? Just so I don't forget what you look like.”

Ryan let out a low chuckle at that. There was something a little hysterically relieved in it. “Not so you can kiss me?”

“That too.”

A pause. Then Ryan let out a little exhale of breath.

“Thank you, Jack. That... helps.”

“Hey,” Jack said, nudging him with his shoulder. “I'm your boyfriend now, it's part and parcel of it.”

Ryan was oddly quiet at that, and Jack realised his uncertainty then; perhaps he was comfortable with Jack – probably with Gavin, too, given their similar states of wariness – but there were four others in the relationship, four others who might not be as patient as he was. He frowned a bit.

_This seemed much easier when we were all just making out._

_Time_ was what they needed. Time to work things out, time to grow more comfortable with each other.

“You get some sleep,” he said then, standing up. “I'll wake up one of the others to take your watch.”

“No, I'll do it,” Ryan replied. Jack opened his mouth to protest but Ryan stood too, and he closed it again.  _Don't push. Take it slow_ .

“Okay,” was all he said.

He was surprised when Ryan reached out first. All he did was take Jack's hand and squeeze it, but the gesture was there, the trust. Jack smiled and then on impulse leaned in and kissed him on the cheek, over the mask. He felt Ryan stiffen then let out a low, startled laugh.

“Just so you know,” Jack said, tapping the side of the skull, “I'm fine with that, but... not in bed.”

“Oh Jesus Christ,” Ryan said, with another slightly nervous sort of laugh. “Yeah, that's not going to happen. Don't worry.”

“Good.”

“Unless you want it to,” Ryan added, something wicked in it, and Jack laughed again.

“I think this is a conversation for another time.”

Ryan nodded. He turned away and Jack watched him go outside. The worry was still there, low in his gut.

He knew the others loved Ryan. Knew Geoff did, even if perhaps he was not as obvious about it. Knew Michael and Ray looked up to him a lot. But they were also not quite as forbearing as he was. And he couldn't fault them for hoping that someone they were _dating_ would open up to them. But he pushed it away – _hope for the best, at least in this –_ they would deal with things as they came.

He headed down the corridor, only to pause as he reached the door leading out to the garage. Ryan had not gone after Gavin, but while his explanation made sense, Jack couldn't just leave things.

He pushed the door open slowly, but it still screeched very noisily at the movement. He grimaced, inwardly cursing Felix for not taking better care of his hideouts. It was dark out in the garage, so dark he could barely see a thing, and very cold. He frowned, pushing the door open further. A little light spilled in from the corridor behind him and he caught sight of Gavin. The younger man had his phone switched on, lying on the ground beside him. A little beacon of blue light in the dark room.

He was sitting in the corner of the garage, against the wall. Knees drawn up to his chest, arms wrapped tightly around them. He'd jumped when Jack opened the door and now he stared up at him with wide eyes. The minute he registered who it was he turned his head away.

“Gavin,” Jack said softly, walking over to him.

“Please don't, Jack. Not right now.” Gavin's voice was small and tight. Jack stopped a metre or so away from him, stricken by how he was leaning away, pressing himself against the wall. “Did Geoff send you?”

“No.”

Something tugged at Jack, something worried and unpleasant, because this was a change. This was a strange and terrible change. Gavin shied away from showing them his scars but otherwise he was constantly seeking affection; it was rare that he didn't want to be touched. He lapped up their comfort eagerly when they did offer it and to see him pulling away now was alarming. What the fuck was going on?

“Gav...” Jack could see him shivering. It was too fucking cold out here. “Come inside.”

“No.” It was snapped, quick and harsh, and Jack tried not to flinch. “I'm fine out here.”

“You're not fine. It's too cold.”

“You're my boyfriend, not my _father._ ”

“You're right, I'm your boyfriend, and I'm worried about you.” He settled back on his haunches, more confused than ever.

Gavin had been wrapped up in work recently. Before that he'd been... quiet but fine; Jack had seen him joking around with Ryan, he'd eaten with them the first night back from the Corpirate's, and he'd readily accepted the others' affections. But whatever was going on, whatever was on his mind, it had him rapidly deteriorating. He knew that was what the fight with Geoff must have been about; he knew his first boyfriend well enough to figure that he'd've pushed. Tried to get Gavin to talk about it. Determined to help him no matter if he wanted it or not.

_He saw something back at the house_ . He recalled it now, the way Gavin had frozen, horrified. Looking like he'd seen a ghost. He hadn't had time to dwell on it back then.

And it hurt, a bit, that Gavin wouldn't just talk about it. That he'd still push them away. Confused Jack a little too; he knew Ryan had his problems but he'd thought they were on the right track with Gavin. That he trusted them to help him with these things. After all, he'd trusted them enough to come out in the field without complaint.

Whatever was happening here was striking deeply enough, it seemed, that he was reverting back to his old tactics of pulling away, of trying not to think about things and snapping when people tried to bring them up.

“You don't have to talk about it,” Jack said. _For now_ , he added mentally. “But you need to come inside. You can sleep on the couch if you'd rather be alone. But I'm not letting you stay out here.”

“A lot of people aren't letting me do a lot of things,” Gavin grumbled, but got to his feet. Jack held out a hand and Gavin froze a moment before giving in and stepping forward, into his side, letting the other man drop an arm around his shoulders and pull him closer. Jack couldn't help but frown; he was shivering himself but Gavin was shaking in a way he didn't think was just from the cold. He felt suddenly devastated at the thought of him sitting here alone in the dark before he arrived. What he might have been thinking. If he might have been panicking.

Something had freaked him out badly and he needed, _needed_ to know what but for whatever reason Gavin didn't want to say and pushing would only make it worse at this point. Right now he was evidently too upset over Geoff trying to do just that for Jack to even begin coaxing it out of him, so he just led him back into the house.

Gavin gagged at the sudden warmth when they got inside and Jack rubbed his back. Some part of him still leaned into the touch and Jack squeezed his shoulder.

“Bedroom?” he asked, but Gavin shook his head.

“Couch,” he replied. “I kinda...”

He trailed off and Jack nodded. _Kind of want to be alone_. Maybe he didn't approve but he also wasn't going to start a fight about it; Ryan was just outside and he knew the other man would be watching, would keep an eye on Gavin if he left him in the living room. And like Ryan had said, it could be overwhelming at first and if Gavin wanted his space he had to let him have it.

“There's blankets out there. Want a hot water bottle?”

“I'm fine.”

“Your sleeping pills?”

“I'm _fine_.”

“Okay.” He tried not to be hurt at the harshness of the other's tone. Gavin started to move towards the couch but Jack grabbed his hand, gently. Turned him back around.

“Hey,” he said softly. “I don't know what's up but I'm here whenever you want to tell me, okay?”

Gavin just pressed his lips together and gave something that might have been a nod. Jack let go of his hand but he didn't move, just let his arm fall to his side.

Jack sighed, helplessness tugging at him again.

“Goodnight, Gavin.” There was a slightly tense pause before what came next slipped out; they were at the forefront of his mind but he hardly realised he'd said them aloud until the words were hanging in the air between them. “Love you.”

Gavin went stiff. He looked up at Jack and his lips parted a little. Then he just looked suddenly, horribly upset. Not at the words, though, not because of them. A flash of something else crossed his face, something like fear or disappointment perhaps. Like he wanted to say something in return but couldn't bring himself to do it.

Jack's heart was thundering; part of him was desperate for Gavin to acknowledge the words, heavy despite having slipped out so easily. But he knew tonight was not the night, that standing here waiting was only putting his boyfriend under more pressure. So he smiled, and turned away, and didn't look back as he headed down the hallway to the bedroom.

He half expected Geoff to be awake when he opened the door, perhaps mulling over his previous argument with Gavin, but the man was sprawled out on the bed, fast asleep. He looked exhausted and Jack couldn't blame him. Geoff hid it well but he knew how much this entire Edgar situation was taxing him – had been since the start. He was, after all, the one who the cow was trying to bring down. Being the leader of the operation he had to put up a facade of confidence, of control, and Jack knew that was tiring.

With a soft sigh, he leaned in to kiss Geoff's forehead before climbing into the bed with him, settling into an uneasy sleep.

 

* * *

 

“Maybe he's going to blow up the bridge,” Michael said.

They were sitting around the table eating breakfast. Another night had passed with no move from Edgar, and the waiting was getting on everyone's nerves.

Jack had clung to the futile hope that Gavin might be better this morning, but if anything he was worse. He obviously hadn't slept a wink last night, or if he had it had not been peaceful. He looked worn down in a way Jack disliked, a way he had been relieved to see disappear over the last few days until now. He was quieter than normal and Jack could see Ray and Michael glancing at him worriedly, but they hadn't called him out on it yet.

Geoff had gone to call Kdin and see what was happening the moment he woke up, and Jack was half-dreading his return to the room, unsure what tension he might bring with him. He wished he'd had a chance to speak to Geoff alone that morning.

“What strategic value would that have?” Ryan asked. He'd taken off his mask to eat with them for once, which Jack considered at least one step in the right direction.

“None,” Michael replied, around a mouthful of toast. “Well, it would make it fucking annoying for us to get across the city.”

“It's a pretty ugly bridge,” Ray commented. “Wouldn't mind seeing it gone.”

“It would help if I knew the actual quantity of explosives,” Michael muttered. “Then I could at least try and figure out exactly how worried we should be.”

“Very worried,” Ryan said darkly. “With Edgar you should always be very, very worried.”

“Mr Doom and Gloom over here,” Michael said, and Ryan glanced across at him. Seemed tense for a moment, almost annoyed at Michael making light of it, but it faded quickly as he seemed to remind himself to let it go. When his eyes fell on Michael and saw him smiling.

“How are you going with finding him, Gav?” Ray asked, turning towards him.

Gavin looked up from where he'd been pushing cereal around his bowl.

“Slowly.” His voice was quiet, dull. “Still working on getting into the Corpirate's hard drive.”

“I would say no rush, but there kind of is a rush,” Ray said, but seemed more distracted by the weary exhaustion on Gavin's face. “Hey, are you-”

“No sign of anything weird in AC. Or at least, nothing _yet_.” Geoff re-entered the room and Jack saw him pause when he noticed them all around the table, and then stiffen slightly, brows furrowing as his gaze fell on Ryan. His heart sank; what the fuck was going on _now_?

Gavin stood up, avoiding looking at Geoff, and moved to scrape his bowl of cereal away.

“Yo, don't pour that down the sink, you'll clog it,” Ray called out, though he seemed more alarmed by Gavin leaving so abruptly.

“Who cares,” Gavin replied, “It's Felix's sink, innit?”

He turned to leave and Ray bit his lip. He glanced at Jack, eyes wide and questioning, and Jack sat helplessly. Gavin was still obviously determined to deal with whatever this was on his own. He didn't know what to do.

Michael, as usual, was the one who cut past all the crap. He reached out and snagged Gavin's sleeve as he tried to walk by.

“Hey,” he said, something too deliberately casual in his voice. “Don't run off. We've gotta, like, plan our day and shit.”

“I've gotta keep working on that hard drive stuff,” Gavin replied. He tried to pull away but in a single smooth motion Michael released his arm and caught his hand instead, tugging him closer.

“Come on, we barely saw you yesterday.”

“Michael's right,” Ryan cut in, “We do need to plan what to do next. Gavin, is there any way you can find out just how much Edgar knows about Geoff's empire? What he might have eyes on and be trying to hit with those explosives?”

Gavin paused, thoughtful, then shook his head.

“Hard to tell. Shadles is pretty smart, he might have rooted out quite a few of your places, but then again you keep that shit locked down. There's not really any way I can tell.”

“So we're just sitting around some more,” Geoff said, sounding very frustrated. He slammed a fist against the table suddenly enough that all of them jumped. “Fuck I hate this.”

“Geoff,” Michael started, quietly.

“I wouldn't be surprised if this is part of his plan,” Ryan said, grimly. “Letting us stew. Waiting for us to let our guard down. Or alternatively, get so wound up that by the time he strikes we're exhausted.”

Geoff looked over at him. Met his eyes and seemed to register for the first time that Ryan's face was bare.

“Oh, so _now_ the mask comes off,” he sneered, and Jack _saw_ Ryan's face harden. The mercenary's cold silence was bad enough with the mask _on_ but somehow it was even worse when they could see his entire face; the hard set of his mouth. The way his eyes went blank and dead.

The younger three had all turned to Jack and he felt a sudden pang; they looked so vulnerable, so unsure, looking to him to do something to diffuse the situation. Somewhere along the line he had become the voice of reason, the one keeping them all in balance, and it was an enormous pressure.

“Geoff,” he spoke up. “Ryan, both of you need to calm down. We're all tense, okay, we all don't like this waiting around. But we need to pull together. We're a team, we're a...”

He trailed off. He couldn't think of a name for it.

The silence turned awkward then; he saw the moment Ryan and Geoff both pulled back. Remembered they were in a relationship now and even if it calmed them down, he saw the uncertainty in Ryan's eyes, the way Geoff had gone tense and almost guilty.

“We're a _six-way gay fucktruck_!” Ray hollered, so loudly that Gavin and Michael both jumped next to him.

Michael burst out laughing and Ray grinned, and even if there was something nervous in it, it broke the tension a little. Enough for Geoff to scoff and shake his head, and turn his attention to getting food. Enough for Ryan to pull his mask on and walk out, squeezing Ray's shoulder as he went by.

Enough for Gavin to slip out of Michael's grasp and leave the room, the other man staring after him.

 

* * *

 

“We need to talk,” Jack said.

Geoff glanced up. He'd been sitting on the bed, had retreated there shortly after eating. When he saw Jack he let out a sigh and leaned forward, burying his face in his hands.

“What was that shit with Ryan before?” Jack asked, sitting on the bed next to him.

Geoff groaned. “Drop it, Jack.”

“No, I won't drop it.” He reached out and pulled Geoff's hands from his face. “Hey – look at me. What's going on?”

Geoff turned towards him and Jack's stomach dropped; he looked tired, so tired. Not just physically, but drained like the life had been sucked out of him a little.

“I know this will take time,” Geoff said quietly. “I _know_. But we've been together one fucking day and already, what? Gavin's pulling away? Ryan hasn't changed one bit? I don't know, I thought... I thought we'd at least get some sort of honeymoon period.”

“Geoff...”

“It's stupid. Impatient. Selfish. I don't know. But Gavin won't let me help him and Ryan's still acting like it's him and then the rest of us. And I – it _hurts_ to see them like that but it... it kinda pisses me off a bit, too, because we're _together now_ , aren't we? They agreed to that? And when you... when you agree to be with someone you... you should let them help you. You should let them in.”

Jack didn't know what to say. He squeezed Geoff's shoulder and the other man leaned into the touch, the warm press of Jack's arm against his.

“It's stupid,” Geoff said again. “It doesn't work like that in our business. You take the bad with the good. But I didn't think there'd be so much bad so soon.”

“Do you love Ryan?”

Jack wasn't sure why he asked it. Needed the reassurance for himself, perhaps. He felt Geoff stiffen against his side, then let out a ragged sort of breath.

“Yeah.”

Jack was silent, waiting for him to elaborate further, but he didn't. He did seem to be thinking hard, and that admission was as important as anything else.

“Okay then,” he said. He reached out, put his hand against Geoff's cheek and turned his face towards him. “You hold onto that, then. We... we grew to care about him without even seeing his stupid mug, so. We can wait a little longer before he starts showing us twenty-four seven, right?”

Geoff chuckled a little. “Right.”

“Exactly.” He leaned in, kissed him gently on the lips. There was something soothing about how familiar the motion was, how easy and comfortable the two of them were with each other if not with the others yet.

Geoff smiled at him, reaching out to squeeze his hand. “You're perfect, you know that?”

“I try.” Jack grinned but sobered quickly. Ryan wasn't their only problem. “Gavin... I know we need to give him space but I'm starting to get pretty fucking worried.”

“I just don't understand what spooked him,” Geoff replied with a groan. “He was heading for the alcohol last night when I stopped him. Wouldn't say anything except that he's sick of having to talk about things.”

“I get that,” Jack said. “It has to be... frustrating, not making progress all the time. Backsliding. I know he gets annoyed with himself when he can't get over things. Feels like he's holding himself back.” He sighed a bit. “I just want to know what brought this on. He was doing so well. He saw something back at the house but I can't think what it might be.”

“He was asking me about how many of Edgar's guys we killed back there.”

“Could be he's just scared of Edgar. He never told us exactly what went on when he got taken.”

Geoff thought about it, but shook his head. “No you're right, he saw something back there. It's freaked him out. I don't know.”

“Give him time I suppose, otherwise...” Jack trailed off. _Otherwise what?_

He could push harder, try and make Gavin talk, but some small, selfish part of him was wary of what Gavin might do in response. That he might lash out or-

_Break up with us._

It had only been a few days and things were just so fragile. Suddenly he felt a little of Geoff's resentment. Couldn't they catch a break? Couldn't things just not go wrong for once?

With a sigh, he patted Geoff's shoulder again before rising. The other remained on the bed, head dropping into his hands again, seeming deep in thought. Jack knew he was stressed, trying to keep things under control back in AC as well as managing them all here, and left him be.

Michael and Ray cornered him almost as soon as he walked out; it seemed they'd had enough self restraint not to interrupt but they were still eager to find out what was going on.

“What's up with Gavin?” Michael demanded, immediately.

Jack sighed, reaching up to rub his temples. “I know as much as you guys, honestly. Something at the Corpirate's spooked him and he's... I don't know. You know Gavin, he hates talking about this stuff.”

Michael nodded. “I know, but he... normally when it gets this bad he at least lets us help, I... I thought it would be different, now.” Something too vulnerable in it.

Jack thought for a moment. “Did he say anything to you? When you took him back to the cars?”

“No. He was quiet but we both were. We were fucking worried about you guys.”

A pause. It tore Jack up to see the helpless concern on their faces; he could see why Geoff had gotten annoyed. And he knew they couldn't blame Gavin, knew it had taken him long enough to trust them at all. That talking about what had happened to him was difficult. But seeing how earnest the two younger men before him were – how much they _cared_ about him – it frustrated him that Gavin couldn't see it too, still wouldn't let them in to help.

“It's hard,” he started, then stopped, unsure how to continue.

Surprisingly, it was Ray who picked up the slack.

“Yeah... now that we're together it feels like we should be able to help him, to not be, like, creeping around him on our tip toes and shit. But it's worse now. It's worse because we can't push because we're scared of fucking this up.”

Michael nodded, Jack too. A tired silence fell upon them.

“Is it too early for the 'we'll pull through this together' speech?” Ray asked, finally, and both of them snorted.

“Whatever you say, Zac Efron,” Michael replied, and Ray reached out and poked at his side, making him laugh and squirm away.

Jack watched them with a fond sort of smile on his face as Michael retaliated, going in to tickle Ray's neck in a move that was far too childish for someone he knew could (and had) bring down an entire building with explosives. He felt a brief worry then; he knew bringing together these already formed relationships could be risky. That there was a chance Michael-and-Ray would end up stronger than the rest of them, the same with Jack-and-Geoff. But it faded when the two of them turned towards him with sudden wicked grins and, okay, he wanted to be the focus of their attention but really not if it was a _tickle war_.

“Guys,” he began, warningly, but Michael was already lunging at him. With a choked laugh, Jack ducked back, out of reach, trying to grab at Michael's hands to stop him, but it was hard to get a hold of him when Ray was suddenly all over him as well. He fell back against the wall, gasping with laughter as he flailed and tried to keep their hands off him, but somewhere along the line all their grasping and touchingended up with Michael's lips against his, the other man leaning up nearly on his toes to kiss him. His own hands pressed flat against the wall, fingers twitching as he kissed back, eyes slipping shut only to open again when he felt another hand moving up his arm. Turned to see Ray moving in – not to Michael but to him, capturing his lips as soon as Michael pulled away.

“It always ends up like this,” Ray murmured, when they broke apart.

“Like what?” Jack asked, trying to catch his breath.

“Like this.” Ray leaned in and kissed him again, quickly. “Ryan and I, last night – and I have with Gavin too – when we're together it's fine. Things are fine. I... I think they both want to be here.”

Jack nodded, Michael too. And it was true; for now, things were okay, they had had enough moments to be reassured that no matter what happened they did know all six of them wanted to try things, that even if they fucked up there was that. That could pull them through.

It was reassuring, but it also didn't mean things couldn't still go wrong, that there might be major hiccups along the way. But for now Jack let himself believe it, and pulled Michael forward to kiss him again.

 

* * *

 

The day wore on. Ryan came inside eventually and Geoff left his room, but despite Jack's earlier conversation with Geoff a cold tension remained between the two. Ryan looked at Geoff warily and that seemed to put him on edge, the mask a barrier between them stopping them from fully realising what each other was seeing.

They were all sitting about, cleaning weapons and counting up ammo and fretting over what Edgar might be doing, when Gavin came quietly in from the garage. He moved into the kitchen and Jack heard the tap run; he looked over through the wide doorway to see him getting a glass of water from the sink.

A loud crash made them all startle, jumping to their feet.

“Gavin?” Geoff called out. They all exchanged concerned glances before trooping into the kitchen.

A glass lay in pieces on the floor. Gavin was crouched beside it, trying to pick up the broken fragments. His hands were shaking terribly and as Jack watched he nicked himself on one of the shards, blood welling up on his fingertip instantly.

“Hey, hey.” He stepped forward first, grimacing at the glass crunching under his feet – his hands still hadn't fully healed from where he'd cut them up back at the mansion. “Gavin, hey – don't worry about it; we'll clean it up.”

Gavin looked up at him and Jack sucked in a breath.

He looked wrecked.

He'd been out in the garage all day but now, now he looked more stressed than Jack had ever seen him. He hadn't been crying, not quite, but his eyes were red and bloodshot, his face drawn. He was breathing too quickly.

“Gavin.” It was Ryan who stepped forward now, sternly. “Tell us what's going on.”

Gavin looked away, lips pressed together. Ray moved up next to him and took his arm gently.

“Gav,” he said, rubbing his shoulder, “Gav, come on, please. What's upset you?”

“What's _upset me_?” It came out a croak, his voice shaking too. Wouldn't look at any of them. “You want to know what's bloody upset me? I'm trying... I'm trying to deal with all this, I... I'm _trying_ , okay?"

“We know, Gavin,” Jack said. Stood useless with his hands by his sides. “We know you're trying, it's okay to-”

“I tried to call Dan,” Gavin continued, as though he hadn't heard, “I fucking tried to call Dan and he didn't... he wasn't there, he didn't pick up.” He lifted his hands to his face and pressed them hard against his eyes. There was blood running down between his fingers now. The wound was small but the movement had agitated it.

“Gavin,” Ryan said, still very calm. “We use temporary phones all the time. We discard them constantly. I doubt anything's happened to him-”

“That's not what this is bloody well about, Ryan,” Gavin cried raggedly. A lie, or half of one at least; Dan's absence might have triggered this particular upset but it seemed everything that had been brewing over the last day or so was coming to a head.

Gavin sucked in a breath, harsh and desperate like the air wasn't reaching his lungs.

“You're all so fucking desperate for me to tell you what's going on, well I'm sick of it, okay. I'm sick – I'm sick of it, I'm sick of being scared, I'm sick of this... this _thing_ hanging over me. I'm sick of not sleeping. I'm sick of how every single _fucking_ time I think I might be okay, that things might be okay, something comes along and it's back to square one. It doesn't damn well matter if I tell you or not because there's nothing you can do about it, I just-” A choking gulp like he was tripping over his own breath, already beginning to hyperventilate. “I just want _something good_ but it just won't _leave me alone_ and I can't... I can't...”

He shook Ray off and stumbled out of the room. Michael involuntarily grabbed for him as he passed, but missed. His footsteps faded quickly down the corridor; they heard the garage door slam.

A horrified silence settled over them. Jack looked down at the broken glass, the specks of blood, and felt nauseous with his own helplessness, a physical ache at how much he wanted to _help_ but there was nothing he could do. He didn't know the right words to say. For once in his life he couldn't think of anything, any possible way to make Gavin feel better because this was how things _were_. Shit happened and getting over it took time and there were trips and falls and backslides and Gavin had had too many of those, too many he knew, enough now that they frustrated him, enough that he was struggling to pick himself back up and-

And-

And this, this relationship, this Jack realised with dawning horror _had not helped_. Maybe if whatever had prompted this particular upset hadn't happened they might have been able to build it up stronger. Or maybe if they had waited, maybe then things would be a little easier to manage.

But here, now, Gavin trying desperately to please them, to be strong for them – themselves trying to hard to help him and failing – all of it was a recipe for things to seem even more hopeless when it failed.

For once, for once Jack didn't know what to do.

His shoulders slumped. He clenched his fists and flinched when he felt the wounds from before tug and pull painfully. No one else had moved, no one seemed to know what to say.

Then Ryan stirred. Grit his teeth and let out a huff of breath. They watched in silence as he turned on his heel and strode off after Gavin.

 

* * *

 

Ryan stopped outside the garage door. He reached up and pulled his mask off. The air was very cold against his face but refreshing, somehow. Lately the mask had felt more stifling than he liked to admit.

The door creaked when he opened it and he grimaced, stepping through. He saw Gavin immediately, he was sitting against the wall. Ryan'd expected him to be huddled up but he wasn't; he had his legs stretched out in front of him and was scrabbling, tugging frantically at the collars of the several layers of shirts he was wearing. Pulling the zip of his jacket down like he thought it was choking him. Gasping and gasping for breath.

Ryan frowned. He stepped over to him, saw Gavin's eyes dart up to meet his, wide and frantic.

“It's just me,” he said slowly. Crouched next to him and frowned; he was pale and trembling, looked about to throw up. “It's okay. You're safe here. Can I touch you?”

After a second Gavin gave a jerking nod. Ryan slipped his own jacket off and leaned forward to tuck it around Gavin's shoulders. It wasn't just against the cold; the heavy leather felt enough like armour for him at times that he figured it might help Gavin a little as well. He settled back on his haunches and reached out. Closed his hands around Gavin's, holding them still.

“If I count can you breathe in and out slowly?”

Another nod. Ryan squeezed his hand gently.

“Okay. One, two, three – hold it – and out. One, two, three...”

It took ten minutes before Gavin's breath stopped hitching, before the shaking died down a little and he seemed to relax a bit, the tension leaching from his limbs as he slumped back against the wall, exhausted. Ryan didn't let go of his hands, knew the aftereffects could linger for some time afterwards.

He felt suddenly tired himself. He'd been focused on keeping Gavin calm but now that the panic had faded somewhat his own problems came crawling back in. The uncertainty that had been building up in him the last few days. An uncertainty he could see mirrored in Gavin's own face now.

Gavin looked up at him, finally.

“You're...” his voice cracked a bit and he cleared his throat a few times. Ryan wished he'd thought to bring some water out here. “You're good at this.”

“I've had my fair share,” Ryan said, quietly. He released Gavin's hands and shifted to sit next to him, leaning against the wall. Their shoulders pressing together. “You deal with them on your own, you pick up some tactics.”

Gavin bit his lip, looking away.

“I had two last night,” he admitted, and gave a disgusted sort of scoff. “Pretty bloody pathetic-”

“Don't say that,” Ryan cut in. It came out more harshly than he intended but he grabbed Gavin's arm, turning him to face him. Caught his gaze and held it intensely.

“Don't you fucking say that,” he repeated. “Being strong isn't about just bouncing back.”

Gavin stared at him and after a second Ryan let him go. He turned away, rubbing his hands over his face for a moment.

The last few days had been hard, harder than he liked to admit. When the panic and adrenaline died down and he realised what he had done – what he'd agreed to be involved in – it had been a peculiar mix of emotions. Fear, first and foremost. Excitement too, happiness, and there was no fighting the fact that he – that he wanted the others. That he didn't regret the affections he'd accepted of them so far and extended in return.

But at the same time it had been terrifying, overwhelming, because his fears – his fears didn't go away. Of losing them, of messing things up. Of everything going terribly wrong.

Gavin was silent, not looking at him, and after a second Ryan spoke up.

“I can't sleep lately.”

That got Gavin's attention; he looked up questioningly and Ryan continued.

“You'd think there'd be nothing but improvement, right? I've been getting better these last few weeks, and joining you guys... it should all be happy. Right? But it's not. My insomnia's gotten even worse. I'm just as stressed as I was before.”

“I thought I was getting better too.” Gavin reached up and lightly touched Ryan's face, cold fingers tracing the bags under his eyes. Bags that were mirrored on his own face, so dark that it looked as though someone had punched him. “But I can't sleep either.”

He let his hand drop and Ryan huffed out a soft breath.

“Joining this,” Gavin began – then trailed off, glancing at Ryan hesitantly. Like he was afraid to voice his fears, to criticise, lest it come off the wrong way, that he didn't want to be with them. Ryan stared back encouragingly – and it was a relief to be here, in a way, to know he wasn't alone with his thoughts and doubts.

“When I decided to join,” Gavin continued, reassured, “I told Michael I was sick of being scared, of letting this hang over me and hold me back. I was afraid to trust them but I did – I took that leap – and I felt...” He clenched his fists. “I felt so _strong_ , it was so good. I was... that made me think it was all gonna be fine now. That I was getting better because I joined them and it was _great_.”

Ryan remembered it, how good it had been to see Gavin smiling again.

“And how long did it last?” A bitter smile. “One _God damn day_. One God damn _fucking_ day and then I... then things went to shit and now I'm scared again, I'm scared _again_ and I hate it.”

_What caused things to go to shit?_ Ryan thought. Aloud he said, “That's okay. It's okay to backslide, it's part of-”

“I'm just so  _tired_ .” He slumped back against the wall. Now he drew his knees up, ground the palms of his hands against his eyes. “I'm tired of the panic attacks. I'm tired of the nightmares. I'm tired of things coming  _back_ . Every time I think there's nothing left to get over...”

Ryan didn't know what to say. He reached over and squeezed Gavin's knee. Heard him shudder out a few slow breaths, trying to stay calm.

“I know you all want to help,” Gavin murmured. “But what can you do? You can't fix my _mind_ when it won't let me forget. Talking about it...” He snorted. “Doesn't always help.”

“There's not an easy fix,” Ryan agreed. Gavin's dilemma made him ache with all that it reminded him of his own.

“I'm no more well-adjusted than you,” he began, and Gavin barked out a laugh.

“You just deal with it better.”

“No, I just  _hide_ it better.” He pulled out the mask and tossed it into Gavin's lap. The other man caught it, startled – then turned it over in his hands, a look of odd wonder crossing his face.

The move had been impulsive and Ryan felt suddenly nervous, uncomfortable. Seeing his safety blanket of so many years in someone else's hands was odd.

“The others think it's weird I wear it now that we're... together. But I can't stop?” It came out more vulnerable than he intended, but to fuck with that, their little care-and-share sesh was already long past any sense of embarrassment or privacy.

“It's still a struggle for me. Letting people in. The mask helps, it stops them seeing so much. Stops me getting overwhelmed. And like you, if I could just get over it I would. But I can't.”

“It's off now, though,” Gavin said, looking over at him.

“You're different.”

“What,” Gavin scoffed, “We're both as fucked up as each other?”

“If you want to put it that way, sure.” He shook his head. “But like you said. Talking about it doesn't always help. Telling them about my old team would give me no more closure than trying to forget about them and letting you others take their place. Talking can be overrated.”

Gavin nodded, but he looked very thoughtful now. He patted the mask in his lap hesitantly, fingers running over the contours of the skull. Grimaced when his skin came away stained with black. Ash and gunpowder and grime, engrained in the material from years of carnage.

“We got to tell them eventually though,” he said, and sounded very tired. Oddly resigned. “I don't want to, not now, but if we're gonna stay together... for them if not for us.”

“That's how it works.”

“I wondered last night if maybe this wasn't a good idea.” He turned towards Ryan but didn't meet his eyes. “If we came in too fast. If they can't... if I can't talk to them... maybe I shouldn't be in here. Maybe I'm messing it up.”

“I thought the same thing.” Gavin stared up at him, horrified, and Ryan quickly amended, “No, no! About  _me_ , not you. But I look at them and I can't... it's selfish but I can't give it up.”

“Jack said he loves me last night.”

Oh God, was the L word being thrown around already? Something about that warmed him, though, despite how it made nervous fear gnaw at his gut.

What he'd told Gavin was true; he'd been second guessing himself the entire two days. So many ups and downs in his mood that he could barely tell what he really thought anymore.

But one thing was clear through all of it:  _he wanted this_ .

“He does,” he said softly, “They all do.”

“And you too,” Gavin said. After a minute Ryan nodded.

Things were easy with Gavin; acknowledging and admitting things. Perhaps because he'd been the first, had experienced Ryan at his worse, and still wanted him. It was harder with the others because he cared so much.

“I wanted to talk to Dan,” Gavin continued then, “Because it's... easier, I don't know. I don't need to worry about ruining stuff with him.”

“You're not gonna ruin anything with us,” Ryan assured him, and Gavin shrugged.

“I know that but I don't, y'know?”

“I... don't know, that made no sense.”

Something like a laugh at that.

“I know you're right but it's... it's frustrating, that my bloody issues creep into this all and I... it still feels weird talking about it with you lot.”

Now would not be a good time for Ryan to mention that he didn't actually know what had happened to Gavin. He'd inferred that at some point he was abandoned, that the abandonment led to capture and torture (the name 'Barry' in the mix somewhere, and if it was the guy Ryan thought it was, he was a fucking nasty piece of work). That Dan had saved him. That was all – but it wasn't the moment to bring it up.

He squeezed Gavin's knee again. “They'll listen. They'll help. And you can do it again, you know.”

“Do what?”

“Leap of faith. Stop being scared – or at least not let it control you. Maybe I'm not one to talk. But I think the more you push yourself to do it, the more times you go through with it, the easier it gets.”

Gavin seemed to think about this. They sat quietly for a long moment, in which Ryan realised that, fuck, now he had to take his own advice or he'd look like a giant fucking hypocrite.

But after a spell Gavin said, “Okay.”

Ryan turned to look at him. He had his head down, breathing deliberately regulated. God, no wonder he hated talking about things; so much as bringing up the subject already had him nervous as hell. But he ploughed on, determined.

“Okay, I... at the Corpirate's place I, I caught a glimpse of some of his new men and I think... I'm not sure, and _God_ I hope I'm wrong, but I think they were-”

The door opened again with its deathly screech. Both of them jumped, heads snapping around – it was Ray who burst through, scanning the room until his eyes fell on them. Ryan's annoyance at the interruption faded immediately at the panic on the other man's face.

“You need to come now,” Ray said. “Edgar's made a move.”

 

* * *

 

It took them a few hours to drive back to Achievement City. Ryan and the lads in one car, Geoff and Jack in another, Gavin on his phone keeping them updated all the while.

“It looks like he hit five buildings,” he said, grimly. “Two property pieces – Geoff's main hideouts and meeting places. A gunshop whose owner's in league with him, supplies most of his ammunition. A warehouse where he stores ordnance. And Burnie's place.”

Michael's head snapped up. “Burnie?!”

“He's fine.” Gavin's face was grim, though. “He was out when it happened.”

“The message is there, though,” Ryan added darkly. “Go after Geoff's allies. Strike at the heart.”

“A bunch of his groundsmen were in the hideouts when they went up,” Gavin added, and Ryan closed his eyes briefly.

“Any of his main crew?”

“Shawcross, but he's not dead. He's in hospital now.”

Ryan felt sick. It was creeping back on him now, the last time he'd seen Edgar do this. He forced the memories away but clung to the anger they left behind.

_Not this time. Not this fucking time, Edgar._

Naturally, the police were crawling all over the devastated targets, and Ryan didn't doubt there'd been civilian casualties. Edgar wasn't one to care. One of Geoff's crew had told them to go to the warehouse, that there was something they had to see there – but with the police presence they ended up being forced to stop and wait at the house of an ally nearby, until some of Geoff's contacts could clear the area for them.

Ryan had never seen Geoff more agitated.

This whole time he'd been forced away from his empire, calling in now and then to keep things running smoothly, but otherwise prevented from engaging in business as he usually did.

This was a grim reminder that Edgar did not just want to kill them all. He was after Geoff's territory, and this was a devastating blow. Ryan knew people in the city would be looking at Ramsey differently now, wondering how he could have let someone wound him so badly.

Trapped waiting in the small house, he could only watch Geoff pace in the next room, phone glued to his ear as he made frantic calls. Jack was doing the same; both of them looked stricken, grim.

Ryan sat with the lads, watching in silence; all three of them were oddly subdued.

“We took out his mercs,” Michael spoke up quietly after a minute. “But it looks like he's still got enough people on the ground to mess shit up though.”

“He probably has local specialists hired, “Ryan replied. “What we stopped were the hired guns from Heyman.”

“Burnie okay?” Ray asked Gavin – they'd been texting. He nodded.

“Shaken up but fine. Annoyed,” he added, with half a grin, though there was little humour in it. “But he'll be fine. Not the first time someone's tried to kill him.”

A pause. They could hear Geoff shouting in the other room, though the words were muffled.

Michael let out a stream of breath, reaching up to run a hand through his hair.

“This is really, really bad for Geoff,” he said, and all the rest of them could do was nod.

For Edgar to be on the proper offensive now was a worrying sign. They had to take him down, and _soon_. Ryan clenched his fists, anger rising up again – then startled as a hand slipped into his, forcing his fingers open. He looked down to see Ray.

“Hey,” the man said, quietly. “Okay?”

“Fine,” Ryan snapped, then regretted his harshness when he saw the soft concern on Ray's face. He forced a smile only to realise Ray couldn't see it behind his mask, and instead adjusted his hand so he was holding Ray's properly. He saw the other man smile at that.

“Geoff got where he is because he knows what he's doing,” Ryan assured them. “As long as we take Edgar down, he can come back from this.”

They nodded, but Ray was still looking at him and Ryan realised then how tense he was, how his shoulders were stiff and his other hand kept going to his gun. He couldn't help being edgy, not with what Edgar was doing now, but Ray's thumb stroking gently, rhythmically across his knuckles leached a little of the tension from his limbs.

Geoff stormed back into the room, Jack close behind him.

“Fuck,” he said, throwing his phone down on the table. “Fuck, fuck, fuck-”

“Geoff.” Jack grabbed his shoulder and he turned towards him. And Ryan knew, knew that when they were out in the open, when there were people watching Geoff had to put on as much of a facade as he did with his own mad mercenary act. He could be angry but he couldn't be _upset_ , couldn't be scared or worried. And he saw Geoff's eyes flicker to the rest of them, his audience, only to realise that they weren't his lackeys or his subjects or even just his crew.

He slumped a little, hands coming up to cover his face. Michael was up off the couch immediately and by his side - “We're gonna kill the fucker, Geoff, you just wait, he'll get what's fucking coming to him,” - Ray dropping Ryan's hand to move over to him as well. Both of them joining Jack in rubbing soothing hands across his arms and back.

Part of Ryan felt he ought to go over and join them, but when Geoff entered the room his gaze had slid off Ryan quickly and he felt suddenly starkly uncertain of himself, recalling the other man's anger with him earlier. Instead he stepped over to Gavin on the couch, reached down and squeezed his shoulder. Gavin looked up at him and gave a small smile.

There was a rap at the door and they looked over. Kdin was standing there. He raised his eyebrows when he saw them clustered around Geoff, but made no comment.

“Police are clear,” he said, and then frowned. “Whatever's in there it's freaked Lindsay the fuck out. You should probably go and see it.”

 

* * *

 

Half of the warehouse was nothing more than a burnt out shell; a skeleton of a building, only the barest rafters and foundations remaining. But the rest of it was intact, if severely scorched and missing part of the roof. The whole place was cordoned off – it was in a quiet area anyway, ramshackle and filled with quite a few abandoned buildings – and empty save for some of Geoff's people.

“There you are.”

A woman strode over to them. It didn't take long for Ryan to recognise her as Lindsay; he'd done his research and he knew the members of Geoff's crew. He didn't miss the way her gaze darted to him warily, though – while Geoff had told his gang who he was working with, he knew they still eyed him with suspicion. He had quite the reputation, after all.

She looked drained and worried, though she was obviously trying to hide it.

“How's Kerry doing?” Geoff asked, and Lindsay pressed her lips together.

“He's alive,” she replied, sounding very tired. “We got him to your doctor pretty quickly.”

Geoff nodded. He jerked his head towards the warehouse. “What's this about something in there?”

“This was the first building to be hit,” Lindsay said. “And it seems Edgar wanted to leave you a message.” She stepped towards the building and they followed warily.

The smell of ash and smoke was ten times worse here than it had been at the Corpirate's house. They picked their way carefully through the debris of the burnt open area before heading into the part of the building that was still somewhat in one piece.

The minute they stepped into the warehouse bay Ryan's eyes began to water, not just at the sting of smoke but the smell, a horrible sweet acrid charcoal that he recognised instantly as burnt flesh.

Swinging gently from the rafters in the light slanting in through the blown out ceiling were four bodies, strung up by the ankles. All of them were burnt beyond recognition and one had a large piece of shrapnel cast into its torso, a broken metal shaft spearing it right through the heart.

Ryan felt bile rise up in his throat. Michael and Ray were retching, Jack too. The others coughing, swearing under their breath and giving murmurs of disgust. He couldn't look away from the horrifying sight; a terrible shiver creeping down his spine as he felt suddenly cold.

Edgar was a sick, sick man and Ryan had seen him do terrible things – and heard of worse as he tried to chase him down. Even this, as horrible as it was, didn't quite compare.

It was still shocking, still _sickening_ , and he finally dragged his eyes away. Gavin was close by his side and he had turned away. He had a hand pressed over his mouth and Ryan could see him shaking, gagging as he tried to vomit. He reached out and rubbed the other's back. Saw him throw up a little before stumbling back. He was breathing too fast and Ryan grabbed him. Yanked him close and pulled him against his chest so he couldn't see. Gavin buried his face in his jacket; Ryan could feel him shaking.

Geoff had been struck speechless but now he gathered himself. Swallowed a few times and said, “Fuck. Okay.”

“It's obviously a warning,” Lindsay said, voice strained. “This psycho's not going to stop here.”

“That's why we're trying to hunt him down,” Ryan scoffed.

He saw Lindsay turn towards him and didn't miss the way she stiffened in surprise. He realised what it must look like, the way he was holding Gavin so close – comforting him – it was at stark odds to what anyone would expect from the mad mercenary.

He passed Gavin over to Michael, who had by this point recovered a little, and stepped forward reluctantly to get a closer look.

His blood ran cold immediately.

“Who are these men?” he demanded.

Geoff moved up beside him, glancing over. Startled by his sudden agitation.

It was Kdin who replied. “They're guards we hired to keep this warehouse secure. Looks like Edgar killed them before blowing the place. Then set them on fire.”

“Are these all the guards you had? Just these four?"

“No, there were at least a dozen.”

“He picked these ones deliberately,” Ryan ground out. “Look.”

Geoff looked at the four bodies. Then turned and looked at Jack, Michael, Ray and Gavin. Ryan saw his face pale, then cloud over, filled with an intense anger, an anger familiar to Ryan.

“Fuck,” he spat. Turned and kicked a piece of sheet metal across the ground with a noisy clatter. “ _Fuck_!”

“Is that...” Ray took a tentative step closer, eyes widening. “Shit, are you saying that's meant to be us?”

Burnt as they were it was hard to make out individual features on the bodies, but one was pointedly larger. Two of the smaller ones swung together, the fourth – a more slender fellow – on its own. It was the largest that had the metal shafted through its heart.

“Edgar's delightful way of letting you know that he's coming after the people you care about next,” Ryan said, and Geoff let out a low growl.

“I'm going to kill him. I'm going to fuck that son of a bitch up so fucking badly-”

“He left out Ryan,” Michael pointed out.

Ryan tilted his head, observing the four swinging corpses. It was true; there was one for each of the others – except him. He shrugged, figuring Edgar probably assumed that he was still only working with them as a means to an end, that he only knew Geoff had gotten closer to the lads.

“Geoff,” Lindsay said quietly. He turned to her, simmering, fists clenched by his sides. “What do we do now?”

“You lay fucking low, do you hear me?” He stepped up and grasped her shoulders, staring down at her earnestly. “Kdin, you too. This motherfucker is moving in on us and I can't risk him doing something to you guys. We're gonna fucking take him down but you stay safe until that happens. Take care of Kerry once he's out. Keep things running smoothly if you can. Start hiring, we're gonna need more people to replace the ones who...” he trailed off, a flash of pain crossing his face.

Even if he hadn't been particularly close to the men who'd died in his hideouts – even if they were just hired muscle – they were still employees of his. Still people on his side who Edgar had gone after. Ryan's mouth twisted as he struggled to stay collected again; this was biting deep at things he didn't want to think about.

“There's gonna be fallout from this,” Kdin spoke up. “People are already demanding to talk to you. Want to know what you're gonna do about it.”

“People can fucking wait until I've brought down this bastard.”

“I, uh... don't think they can,” Kdin said, sounding a little nervous about it. “This is... Geoff, this is bad. You've been gone for over a month now. People are talking. They think you're not in control any more. If Felix or anyone else starts pushing it's gonna be hard to keep them back.”

“You should go,” Jack said, turning to Geoff. “Sort this out. Caleb said he's down at the forum trying to keep a lid on things.”

“You're not going anywhere by yourself,” Ryan spoke up. “I'll come with you. Having the mad mercenary by your side should make people shut up a bit.”

Geoff glanced at Ryan again. Held his gaze for a long moment. Ryan couldn't tell what he was thinking, whether he was still angry with him, and didn't like how disconcerted that made him feel. But after a minute Geoff nodded.

“Okay,” he said. “Okay. You take the others back to the house. I'll meet you there soon. Gavin,” he said, turning towards him.

Gavin looked up. He was still tucked under Michael's arm, his eyes red and watery from retching so much. He avoided looking at the bodies, keeping his gaze fixed on Geoff.

“You need to buckle down on finding this asshole,” Geoff said. “We have security cams around all our places; I'll get someone to see if anything can be salvaged from it that might help. Otherwise get going with that hard drive.”

Geoff's voice was stern, commanding, but if anything that seemed to help Gavin. To rouse him a little and give him some purpose, something to focus on. He nodded and Geoff reached out and squeezed his arm before turning away.

“Come on then, Ryan,” he said shortly.

Ryan trailed after him. He heard Lindsay move in and say something to Jack, and figured it was about him, but couldn't catch the words.

Geoff was silent and Ryan could see how tense his shoulders were. He was pretty damn angry himself. Felt cold all over except for the rage burning low in his gut. A little nauseous from the smell in the building. But somehow, still worse than all of that was the little undercurrent of uncertainty as to whether Geoff was still pissed at him.

He didn't like it, didn't like being at odds with the other man – but now was not the time or the place, at  _all_ , and all he could do was follow along.

 

 

* * *

 

“You alright, Gavvers?” Michael asked.

Jack glanced up at the rear view mirror in time to see Gavin nod. He was leaning against the window and had gotten a little colour back as they drove.

“M'fine,” he replied.

“Pretty fucking grisly,” Michael said, and beside Jack, Ray snorted.

“That's one way of putting it, man.” He shook his head, lips twisting in disgust. “That'll give me nightmares for sure.”

“It was the smell,” Gavin said. “It reminded me of-”

He broke off, gagging again as, it seemed, he accidentally reminded himself of it, and Michael reached across and patted his back until it died down.

“Barbecue?” Michael asked, and Gavin stared at him.

“What?"

“It reminded you of barbecue?”

“No!” Gavin cried, looking at him aghast. “Not bloody _barbecue._ Jesus, Michael.”

“Oh,” Michael said, leaning back and folding his arms. “Because it reminded  _me_ of barbecue and now I'm never fucking eating that again.”

“Thanks,” Ray cut in, “You've ruined it for me now too.”

“Gavin?” Jack prompted – when the others started talking he'd dropped whatever he'd been about to say, but Jack wanted to hear it – there had been something a little too serious in it, too quiet.

The others caught on and looked at him as well; Gavin glanced over at them before turning away nervously.

“Edgar... when I was with him he killed someone. I don't know. It smelled the same.”

There was a moment of horrified silence as they proceeded to envision all the ways Edgar might have killed someone that made it smell like burning flesh. Jack thought he might be sick.

“Oh Jesus Christ, Gavin,” Michael said, sliding across the backseat towards him and reaching out.

He might have been pulling away earlier but now Gavin readily let the other man sling an arm around his shoulders and tug him close. Ray looked stricken and Jack reached over and squeezed his hand.

“Kinda pissed off to be honest,” Gavin huffed out, with a hysterical sort of laugh. “I was doing a well good job of, y'know, mentally repressing it and all that.”

“Gav...” Michael looked like he wanted to hug him, but also like he wanted to go out and set  _Edgar_ on fire.

An uneasy sort of silence settled over them. Jack couldn't stop thinking about it, the image of those four hanging men engrained behind his eyelids. The speared heart of the one that was meant to be him. The thought of it disturbed him.

He remembered what Ray had asked him back at the Corpirate's. If Edgar knew if they were all together. He still thought he might not, but he _had_ realised, it seemed, that Geoff was close to the lads even if he didn't know the details of it.

And that was worrying – gravely worrying – considering what Ryan had said about how he got his old team.  _Take one and the rest fold like cards_ .

It ate away at his mind as he moved to pull into a petrol station; they were running low and it was quite a trip back out to the house.

He noticed something was wrong immediately; they were in the outskirts of the city by now and the station was quite empty, but no sooner had he pulled up by one of the gas meters than another car turned in from the road – a car that had been following them some time, he realised now; he had figured it was just going in the same direction, since they were on one of the main roads leading out of the city. But he realised now that it had dark tinted windows and was driving around to the other side of the service station lot so as to be parallel to their car.

The other three had caught on as well, and Jack exchanged a wary glance with Ray. He pulled his gun from his belt and Ray reached down under the seat only to produce the grenade launcher.

“Fucking hell, Ray,” Michael hissed.

“What?”

“Bit of an overkill, don't you think?”

“We're at a gas station, Ray, do not fire that thing,” Jack snapped – Ray just shrugged.

“Yeah, I know. But it looks intimidating, doesn't it?”

Jack rolled his eyes, but quickly turned his attention towards the other car. One of the doors opened and a handful of men climbed out – and then the man in the pig mask. Jack was about to turn and drive out when he noticed that the man in the lead had his hands raised, no gun in them, and was walking towards them slowly.

“Gavin, stay in the car,” he snapped, and got out, Michael and Ray following.

He hadn't got a good enough look at the men back at the mansion to tell if these might be some of the same people. Either way the guy at the front was young – early thirties perhaps – a blonde fellow with an arrogant sneer to his mouth that rubbed Jack up the wrong way immediately.

“Hey, that's ours!” was the first thing he called out, eyes falling on Ray's grenade launcher.

Ray raised his eyebrows. “Oh, sorry dude. How about I return it to you ammo-first?”

The man just tutted, shaking his head. “Consider it a gift, then.”

“I think this is the part where I ask what's stopping me from killing you right here and now,” Jack spat. His heart was pounding; he didn't know what was going on. Why the pig and these others would just reveal themselves to them.

“Well, for one, you're outnumbered.” It was true, the pig and the rest of the men had weapons pointed at them as well. “Also, if you hadn't noticed, we're in a service station. Not exactly the best place for a firefight, is it? Unless we all want to go up in smoke. Keep that finger off the trigger please, pal,” he said, looking at Ray, who rolled his eyes.

“What do you want?” Jack demanded, gun not wavering from where it was pointing at the man's head.

“To deliver a message from Edgar. I'm assuming your boyfriend saw his little surprise.”

Jack grit his teeth. He was aching to shoot the man, the pig, all of them – but with both sides' weapons drawn they were trapped in a stalemate and he was painfully aware of the petrol pumps around them. How easy it would be for this whole place to explode.

“Like you said,” the man continued. “This is the part where we tell you that it's your last chance to surrender.”

“You know that's not going to happen,” Jack snapped.

“It's only polite to offer. You've seen what Edgar can do. Tell Ramsey that it's all downhill from here. Or he can leave the city to Edgar and escape with his life.” His eyes flicked over Jack and he smirked. “And his lover boy."

“That's fucking great except for the bit where we've taken down nearly all his men,” Michael sneered.

It was the pig who answered, voice a deep drawl slightly muffled by the mask. “Edgar never bluffs.”

It was a simple statement but for some reason it made Michael stiffen, wiped the smirk from his face and any trace of humour from his eyes.

A tense silence fell.

“And on that note!” the first man said. He reached into his coat and Jack took a step forward warningly, but the man just retrieved a small pouch and tossed it across the ground towards them. It landed a metre or so in front of Jack.

“Present from Edgar for Haywood,” the guy said.

They made to return to their car – some of them still pointing their weapons at Jack and the others, who responded in kind. He didn't miss the way the man paused, though, turning to look back at their car – and then waved. It took Jack a minute to realise he was waving at _Gavin_ , despite the tinted windows of the vehicle. He frowned.

Michael leaned in close as the others began to get in. “We can follow them.”

“They know how to lose a tail. And I'm guessing this was meant to be our last warning.” Jack shook his head. “There's no way Edgar would let us go even if we did surrender. This is some sort of trap, it has to be.” His gaze fell on the bag the man had tossed over. “It could be a bomb.”

“That's not a bomb,” Michael replied, and Jack accepted it – he should know. He picked it up cautiously but didn't open it, figuring it best to wait for the others to get back.

“They might follow _us_ ,” Ray pointed out.

“I know how to lose a tail too. We'll be careful,” Jack said. He watched the other car warily as it pulled out and drove off – Ray trained the grenade launcher at it the whole time, but they were still too close to the gas station to risk firing it. He watched Edgar's men disappear and felt a terrible tug low in his gut.

He didn't like this. He'd thought that they were getting close to bringing Edgar down – they'd taken out  _so many_ of his men yet he just kept producing more. And here he was taunting them as though  _he_ was the one winning.

“Let's go,” he said stiffly, turning back towards their own car. They'd get petrol elsewhere, considering the station attendant had likely just seen their standoff and called the police already.

Barely had they got back in than Jack's gaze fell on Gavin and found him staring horrified out the window in the direction the car had gone. He was sitting very, very still, so tense he was shaking.

“Gav?” Michael asked, cautiously.

Jack remembered his reaction back at the Corpirate's place, the start of his subsequent downward spiral.

“Back at the mansion,” he said – saw Gavin's eyes flicker towards him. “These are the same guys, aren't they?”

Gavin hesitated, then gave a jerking nod.

“Who are they?” Jack asked.

For a moment he thought Gavin wasn't going to answer. He looked torn, like some part of him still thought that if he just ignored it, if he just tried not to think about it, then everything would be okay. But then he sighed, running his hands over his face.

“My old team,” he said quietly. “That was Andrew, some of those guys – they're from my old team. From before Barry.”

Jack's heart sank at the words.

He'd thought about them, since Gavin told him what had happened. He didn't know the details of how they'd left him behind but in any case just thinking about it made his blood boil; no matter what had gone down they were responsible for Gavin getting caught by Barry. For the pain he'd been put through since. He'd wondered what had happened to them, but he hadn't ever thought they'd make a return, and certainly not like this.

Jesus Christ. No wonder Gavin had been acting so weird lately, if he'd caught a glimpse of them back at the manor. His past coming back to haunt him, unsure if he had really seen them or was just projecting. Not wanting to talk about it the same way he didn't want to talk about anything to do with this.

Michael let out a low hiss of anger. “Son of a bitch,” he spat, “Edgar fucking employed your old team?!”

“He's playing mind games,” Jack said, quietly. “He knows it'll throw Gavin off. Make it harder for him to focus on his work.”

“Jack's right, Vav,” Ray said, twisting around in his seat to smile at Gavin, though it was painfully forced. He didn't know what had happened, Jack remembered suddenly, but he must be getting the gist of it now. “He's trying to mess with you. Don't let him.”

“Think I've already let him,” Gavin ground out, with a hysterical sort of laugh. He still looked a little shellshocked, like he couldn’t quite believe what he'd just seen. “It's... hard seeing them, oh God, oh _God-"_

“Hey, hey.” Michael scooted across the seat and grasped Gavin's face in his hands. Turned it up to face him. “It's gonna be fine, okay? He's trying to get into your head but they're just like any other lackeys. All this means is that we're gonna have a hell of a lot more fun killing them when we do.”

“Damn right,” Jack said.

Michael leaned in and kissed Gavin, still clasping his face, and after a minute Gavin responded, let his hands come up to grip Michael's shoulders.

“Like I told you before,” Michael said, once they'd pulled away, thumb stroking gently across Gavin's cheek. “Get _angry_. We're gonna fuck them up and none of them are gonna touch you again, alright? Just think of what Ryan's gonna do when he finds out.”

“Carnage!” Ray cried, gleefully, and Gavin couldn't help but laugh.

“Carnage,” Michael agreed with a smile, and Gavin nodded.

“Speaking of Ryan,” Jack said, and turned the bag Andrew had given him over in his hands. “I don't doubt whatever's in here's designed to mess with him as well. You and Geoff and Ryan, that's who he's targeting, the three he knows have the best chance of hunting him down.”

“We could just not give it to him,” Ray suggested. “Throw it away. Don't even mention it.”

Gavin shook his head. “Ryan would be angry. We can't keep something like that from him.”

“He's right,” Jack agreed. He sighed, passing the bag to Ray. “Let's head home then. This day just got a lot shittier.”

“Maybe,” Michael said, hurrying to put his seatbelt back on as Jack started to pull out of the petrol station. “But we're not gonna let it get to us, right? He's trying to fucking psych us out, well it's damn well not gonna work. You got that, Gav?”

“Yep,” Gavin replied. He sounded a little strained, but forced cheer was better than no cheer at all. And while Jack may have felt uneasy now, even more afraid of what Edgar might have up his sleeve, the tension in the car was quickly broken when Ray, after a few moments, cleared his throat and warbled out at a pitch that was impressively off-key: “ _We're all in this together_!”

 

* * *

 

The forum was located through an underground walkway leading off the car park of a shopping plaza in a quiet suburban district. It led out to a little area with few buildings around; just what had once been a council hall, a pawn shop and a sex store.

The hall was what Geoff used as a communication point, so to speak; anyone who needed to get in touch with him knew to do it through there, where employees of his would wait to put him in touch. Often there was barely anyone around, but now the building was crowded with shouting people. They entered through a back door to the sight of Caleb – on crutches – attempting to control the mass of seething, panicked people.

“No – just listen – look, if you-”

The poor fellow couldn’t even finish a sentence for people interrupting him, and Ryan and Geoff exchanged glances before Geoff walked up the steps to a small stage at the back of the room and hollered out, “Everyone _shut the fuck up_!”

The room fell silent as people turned and realised that the man they had been waiting for was there – a hush that quickly turned to shocked gasps as Ryan stepped up next to him.

He folded his arms, standing just behind Geoff, and stared coldly out at them all. He knew he looked menacing; mask and heavy jacket on, gun pointedly by his side. The people exchanged fearful glances, turning their faces away from his gaze as he raked his eyes over them.

A few smaller criminals in the area he recognised from two-bit heists they'd pulled off, obviously people Geoff had brought over to his side to avoid them calling trouble. Business owners in the area, crooks, a politician and a few higher-ups. People in Geoff's pay or taken to his side, who'd aligned themselves with him and his empire in the hope of coming out on top.

All angry now at the thought that maybe he wasn't as in control of things as they'd thought.

“Jesus _fucking_ Christ,” Geoff raged then. “You're like a fucking pack of animals. Show some self control. Caleb,” he added, and the man limped his way over to the stairs, coming up to stand next to Geoff.

His eyes darted warily to Ryan, but he ignored him as he said, “Yeah, they're... they're not happy about this Edgar thing. Want to know what you're doing about it.”

“You want to know what I'm doing about this,” Geoff said loudly, stepping past Caleb to the front of the stage. He scowled down at them all. “You think I'm not fucking aware that some asshole just blew five of my properties to the ground? I'm going after the guy, that's fucking what. That's what I've been doing this whole time.”

“Looks like he's the one going after you,” someone called from the crowd, and Geoff turned to him.

His anger before had been hot, flaring, but now it faded into something worse. Something cold and terrible; he looked very, very calm, and Ryan knew that was the worst sort of anger, the most dangerous. The people seemed to sense the shift, looking uneasily over at each other.

“I've been in charge of this city for tenfucking years,” Geoff said, quietly enough that they all had to fall silent to hear. “This lunatic's come in and thinks he can just take over. Does he have firepower and manpower, yes. But I've taken down most of it. The attacks today were a last-ditch attempt by him to rattle me, but guess what? He's used up all of his ordnance now. Anyone who thinks I'm not in control of this – anyone who thinks now is a good time to withdraw their support – well guess what, this is going to be over real fucking soon and then we'll see who's no longer supporting who.”

Ryan couldn't help but admire it; there was anger in Geoff's tone but the way he held himself, how he addressed the crowd all displayed perfect control. He knew that Geoff was worried about this whole situation but not an inch of it showed in his bearing.

“And if anyone has a problem with how I'm running things,” Geoff added, “I suggest you say it to my face. Or, perhaps, to my friend here.” He gestured back towards Ryan and suddenly everyone developed an intense interest in their shoes.

Geoff stepped back towards Caleb, who looked immensely relieved.

“If you have time,” the man said, “There's a couple of other things you should sort out. A few problems people want to bring to you, individual matters. Kdin and I have been holding them off until you could get back here but they're kind of building up.”

Geoff nodded. “Okay. Get them here one at a time.”

Caleb limped back down towards the floor to bring people up – some of them already drifting out of the meeting – and Ryan settled back by the wall, arms folded, to watch.

This was not the sort of thing he generally got involved in. Save for that one time with his team – a small band anyway, nothing to this scale – he didn't tend to align himself with any one person or group for any length of time. He realised suddenly that he was joining Geoff's crew after this, that this sort of thing would become commonplace.

Some part of him liked it.

He liked being here, being Geoff's back up. Liked the way he could help him command respect. Could  _ protect _ him. 

His gaze drifted out over the crowd again, searching for anything that felt off – and paused as his eyes fell upon one man in the corner.

Everyone else was talking amongst themselves, waiting for their turn and messing about on their phones, or had left already, but this guy was standing with his eyes trained on Geoff. Just staring at him. He had a hood up so Ryan couldn't really see his face, but he felt suddenly uneasy. Didn't like the way the man was gazing at them. Especially when, after a second, he turned towards Ryan as well before looking away.

Ryan got down off the stage and walked over to Caleb. The woman he was talking to flinched as he approached and quickly made herself scarce.

“Denecour,” Ryan said, and Caleb turned to him. Looked a little uneasy himself but met Ryan's eyes through the mask and asked, “Yeah?”

“That guy,” Ryan pointed to him. “Who is he?”

Caleb followed his gaze and frowned. “I... I've actually never seen him before, but I don't deal with everyone so-”

Ryan turned away, frowning – the man had noticed them watching him and was now making for the exit. He was close enough that he disappeared before Ryan could even cross the room after him, and when he looked out the back door he was gone.

His initial response was to think it was one of Edgar's men, of course, but whoever it was, there was no way he could catch them now, and he couldn't think what benefit Edgar would have from watching them at the meeting. He hadn’t seemed to try anything, anyway – just watched.

Still. It unsettled him, and he walked back inside with such an aura of menace that the people remaining in the hall parted like the Red Sea as he made his way back over to the stage.

 

* * *

 

It ended up taking Geoff several hours to deal with everyone in the room, and night was falling by the time they were driving back towards the house.

They still hadn't had a chance to properly speak since last night, and part of Ryan – some dismal, uncertain awkward part of himself – was a little worried to bring it up. Especially since Geoff seemed preoccupied by all he'd done that day, staring out the car window in a thoughtful silence.

Eventually Ryan cleared his throat.

“You were good back there.”

Geoff stirred, glancing over at him.

“Got a lifetime of experience dealing with shit like that,” he replied, rolling his eyes. “It's annoying but it's part of being the large and in charge around here. You being there helped, though.” A pause. “Thanks.”

“No need to thank me,” Ryan replied. “You know I have your back.”

“Yeah,” Geoff said, quietly. “I know.”

Another pause. Now that they were heading out of the city, away from judging eyes, Geoff slumped back in his seat tired. All facade of bravery falling away, leaving him nothing but exhausted.

Ryan glanced over at him.

“Edgar's little 'message' today was...” he trailed off, unsure of the words he was looking for.

“Fucking fucked up,” Geoff supplied, and Ryan nodded.

“Yeah. That. And I've seen him do worse. He _will_ do worse. Now's the time we need to pull together and take him down. Don't...” he trailed off, then pushed on. “Don't push Gavin to talk if he doesn't want to. He's stronger than you might think.”

“I know,” Geoff snapped. “I just-”

“Care about him,” Ryan said. “I get it. You want to protect him, we all do. And I know he needs a nudge sometimes, but a nudge is very different to a shove and you were certainly shoving him last night.”

He didn't mean it to come off as a lecture, and Geoff seemed to get that; he nodded, closing his eyes and letting his head thud back against the car seat.

“He knows how to get at people, doesn't he?” he said after a moment, and Ryan frowned, realising his mind was still on the bodies Edgar had laid out for him. He grimaced; it was true. Geoff was nothing if not fiercely protective and such a blatant threat against the people he loved was meant to cut deep.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “He really does.”

Geoff's eyes cracked open. He looked over at him.

“You weren't up there,” he said, echoing Michael's words from earlier.

“Not sure if I should be insulted or relieved,” Ryan joked, though there was little humour in it. Geoff opened his eyes fully, turning to him in his seat.

“Just because Edgar doesn't know that I... that we... you know I do care about you, right?” Geoff asked.

“I think the making out sort of established that.”

“I mean it.” There was something apologetic in Geoff's voice now. It seemed the day and its horrors had worn down both of them; now as night fell and the world grew dark there was little energy left in either of them to keep up any sort of fight.

Ryan nodded. “I know. And you know... you know I care too. Just because I wear this doesn’t mean I don't trust you.” He reached up and adjusted the mask. “It's been years, Geoff, it... it's not easy.”

“Yeah, I getcha. Sorry if I shoved,” he added, and Ryan rolled his eyes.

“It's fine. I will try, you know.”

“Try to what?”

“To take it off more.” It was as he'd told Gavin that morning; the more you did it the easier it got, those little leaps of faith.

Geoff nodded. “Okay. Good. That's good.” And he grinned, then, and Ryan grinned back.

“I'm gonna assume you're smiling under there,” Geoff said, and Ryan laughed.

“Yeah, I am.”

“Great.”

The silence that fell now was a companionable one; Ryan felt some of the tension fade from his stiff shoulders. Felt a deep and sudden affection for Geoff, glad that they had resolved things between them.

It wasn't long, however, before a new concern sprang to mind.

“Someone's following us,” he said, after a time.

Geoff twisted in his seat. “What?”

“Guy on a motorbike, back there.” Ryan jerked his head towards the the windscreen. “There was a man back at the forum who I didn't like the look of. He was staring at you. Crept out when I noticed him.”

“Is this the same guy?”

“He's changed his jacket, I can't tell. Could be.”

“One of Edgar's?” Geoff twisted around in his seat, trying to get a better look. “Oh, he's good, he's disappeared now.”

“Yeah – I wouldn't have even noticed if I hadn't been wary about that guy from earlier.” The man tailing them disappeared constantly, Ryan only catching glimpses of him now and then. He didn't like it. “What do you want to do?”

“Try and lose him.” There wasn't exactly much else they could do, other than stop completely.

The man had disappeared again by the time they got back to the house, noting absently that the others had returned already, as their car was in the drive. Geoff and Ryan exchanged glances, Ryan making a mental note to keep a more careful watch tonight. They should, at the least, warn the rest of the group what was going on, so they headed into the house.

The others were in the living room when they entered and moved forward to greet them; there were far too many of them for everyone to kiss everyone but Ryan noticed that Jack still moved forward automatically to embrace Geoff. Ryan's eyes fell on Gavin, who was sitting on the couch with Ray; he looked worried but less stressed than he had earlier that day.

“We ran into Edgar's men,” Jack said, right of the bat, and both of them froze.

“What?” Geoff asked.

“It was a scare tactic,” Jack said. “They just wanted to show off the fact that they've got Gavin's old team working for them now.”

Ryan's eyes flicked to Gavin again, who pulled a very displeased face. That must have been what he was about to tell Ryan earlier.

If anything, confirming his suspicions seemed to have calmed him a little; at least he was no longer left wondering if what he'd seen was real or not. And with the others in the loop now he was saved from having to talk about it.

The old team were presumably the ones who'd abandoned him, and Ryan grit his teeth. Again Edgar was biting at where they were most sensitive, but, it seemed, if anything the events of the day had just made Gavin annoyed. So worn down that he had stopped giving a fuck and was, at least for now, just as pissed off as the rest of them at Edgar's games.

“You follow them?” Geoff asked, and Jack shook his head.

“We couldn't, but we don't think they followed us either.” He paused, looking over at Ryan almost nervously. “He gave us something else, too, said to give it to you-”

Ryan raised a hand to shush him as a noise outside distracted him; he barely registered what Jack had said as he paused, listening intently.

“Someone's outside,” he hissed. “They were following us on the way back.”

They all fell silent. Sure enough there was a snapping rustle by the window as whoever it was moved about in the bushes. They were not very stealthy, Ryan thought drily; despite how skilfully they'd tailed them, it seemed creeping around on foot was not their strong suit.

Ryan and Geoff exchanged glances before Ryan pulled his gun.

“Don't kill them!” Michael spoke up. “They might know something. Mark Nutt 2.0.”

Ryan nodded. He gestured for Geoff to follow him outside and the others to wait in here. They opened the door quietly, leaving the porch light off. It was quite dark by now as they snuck down by the side of the house. Ryan could see them now; a figure crouched in the bushes. It was definitely the same guy from before. He was trying to look in the window but failing as it was too dark.

In one swift movement Ryan lunged forward and clubbed the man over the back of the head; he crumpled forward, dazed, and Geoff dived in to snatch the gun from his hand. It wasn't hard; he'd gone limp in surprise, and even though Ryan hadn't knocked him unconscious he was dazed enough that he could drag him upright and then knee him in the stomach, causing him to double over, winded.

The man was tall and muscular, whoever he was, and despite the initial surprise he soon began to fight back. Ryan punched him again across the face and hauled him back; Geoff came up next to him and helped wrest him under control. Between them they dragged him struggling up the porch steps and back into the house where they threw him to the floor and Ryan pulled out his gun, pressing it to the back of the man's head.

Michael had his gun out immediately as well and fucking Ray had his _grenade launcher_ , even if he'd never fire it inside the house. Ryan fought the urge to roll his eyes; he was quickly distracted anyway as the man groaned, pushing himself up off the ground – head still hanging down, hood low over his face – only to freeze when the back of his skull bumped against the barrel of Ryan's gun.

“Want to tell us what the fuck you were doing out there?” Ryan asked, voice low and dangerous. “You working for Edgar?”

The man twisted his head around. Took in Ryan and then searched the room for Geoff. He was young, Ryan realised suddenly, with a boyish sort of face beneath his beard. His eyes fixed on Geoff and he scowled.

“Ramsey,” he said. “Where the fuck is Gavin?”

_British_ , Ryan realised, and barely had time to put two and two together before Gavin was shoving his way out from behind Jack, who'd pushed him back when the others burst into the house.

He faltered when the kneeling man turned away from Geoff to look at him.

“Dan?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my christmas gift to you all is dan in the story nehehe


	25. Chapter 25

_Dan_.

Gavin could not quite believe it. For a moment he stared as though he was not sure what he was seeing was real. His friend, in the flesh, before him.

But then Dan smiled at him, that wide familiar rakish grin spreading across his face, and a rush of relief slammed into Gavin, so intense it nearly knocked the breath out of him.

“Dan!” he cried again, and the next thing he knew he was launching himself forward to embrace him. Dan let out a soft grunt as their bodies collided with enough force to knock him sideways. He grabbed Gavin, steadying him, both of them collapsed to their knees on the floor.

Gavin was faintly aware of Ryan taking a step back. Of everyone lowering their guns and Michael leaning in to murmur something to Ray that he couldn't quite catch.

But he focused on none of it, too wrapped up in Dan – in his strong arms up around Gavin's back, drawing him close. The familiarity of him; his size, the rough scratch of his beard and the warm press of his body. Gavin had never felt so safe as he did with the other man, and he needed that now, after today. For a moment he could not even care how or when or why Dan had returned, only that he was _here, now_ , and Gavin needed him, and he buried his face in the other's shoulder and let himself just be held.

A silence had taken over the room. The hug lasted a long time but neither of them seemed to care, Dan's hand rubbing gently over Gavin's back, a soothing familiar motion that put him instantly at ease.

Finally Geoff cleared his throat.

“Sorry about the guns, Gruchy,” he said. “Thought you were one of Edgar's men.”

They pulled apart. Dan ignored Geoff's statement for the moment, hand up against the back of Gavin's neck, holding their faces close. Stared into his eyes searchingly.

“You okay, B?” he asked.

Gavin nodded.

“Fine – I'm fine. Better now that you're here. Are you...?”

His gaze trailed over Dan's face; he looked exhausted. There was a cut across the bridge of his nose, just beginning to scab, a faint bruise dusted over one cheek.

Dan huffed out a laugh. “'M good. Can I get up or will your new friends blow my brains in?”

“You're fine,” Gavin said, glancing up around at the others.

They all looked surprised and he couldn't exactly blame them; Dan had appeared rather out of nowhere. A little suspicion, wariness in their faces too.

But Gavin – Gavin was so relieved at the sight of Dan that he couldn't help but grin, a giant silly smile that he couldn't get rid of – and he saw the others notice. Saw Michael and Ray begin to smile too, obviously just glad to see him happy.

He scrambled to his feet and helped Dan up. Stayed close by his side, couldn't help being drawn to him now that he was back, as though afraid if he strayed too far he'd disappear again.

“What were you sneaking about in the bushes for, you lunatic?” Gavin asked, nudging him.

Dan barked out a laugh. “I was tryin' to see if you were in the house!”

“That was you, back at the forum,” Ryan spoke up.

Dan's eyes darted towards him and narrowed suspiciously. He stepped in front of Gavin a little, getting between them involuntarily.

Something struck at Gavin then as he reached to grip Dan's arm. They'd spent so much time around Ryan, brought his walls down so much, that he'd nearly forgotten that to everyone else he was still the mad mercenary. Still a dark lurking threat with a serious reputation.

“I was there to speak to Ramsey.” Dan turned towards Geoff. “I remembered Gavin telling me he was working with you. I flew back in this morning. 'Cept then I heard about the bomb attacks and figured you'd be at the meeting, so I came to find you.”

“So why didn't you just come and talk to me?” Geoff asked. “Why follow us here and then lurk around spying on us?”

“I _was_ gonna talk to you, until I saw _him_.” Dan jerked his head towards Ryan. “Thanks for the warning, B. Didn't tell me you were hanging out with the bloody mad mercenary nowadays.”

“He's on our side,” Gavin said, a little sheepishly.

Dan glanced at him curiously, and Gavin knew they'd be talking about this later. But he just shrugged.

“Still. Found you in the end, didn't I?”

“Yeah.” Gavin smiled, and Dan smiled back.

Gavin could see his wariness, that despite what Gavin had told him he didn't quite trust Geoff or any of the others. But at least he was here now, and all the rest they could work out later.

Michael stepped forward then, clearing his throat, and Dan turned towards him.

“So you're Dan,” Michael said. He held out a hand. “Michael Jones. I'm one of Burns' contacts. That's my partner, Ray.”

“Sup,” Ray said, waving as Dan reached forward to shake Michael's hand.

“I don't think the rest of you really need an introduction,” he said, glancing over at Geoff and Jack.

Jack smiled a bit. “Apparently not. You've actually shown up at an... interesting time. We're in a bit of a situation right now.”

“You said you were on a job,” Dan said, turning towards Gavin.

“Yeah,” Gavin replied. “But it's gone a bit beyond just a job now.”

Dan glanced around at them and seemed to take in the odd seriousness on their faces, how worn down and tired they all were. Turned back to Gavin with a frown and narrowed eyes.

Gavin didn't know how he must look. His sleeping patterns had gone to shit again and today had been... not-great; he still felt a bit sick at the memory of the little present Edgar had left them in the burned building. Was trying not to think about it.

“What's going on?” Dan asked.

Jack and Geoff glanced at each other, then Geoff turned to Ryan. He was tense, arms folded, eyes fixed on Dan suspiciously. Gavin could tell that they were wary. He stepped past Dan, over to Geoff, and reached out to press his arm.

“We can trust him,” he insisted. Looked up at Ryan and met his eyes behind the mask. “We _can_.”

Geoff stirred, then nodded.

“Of course, Gav.” He sighed, putting his gun back in his belt, and gestured towards the couch. “Have a seat, Gruchy. It's a bit of a long story.”

Brows still furrowed, Dan did so. As he stepped past Ray he paused, did a double take, and then stared at him, aghast.

“Is that a fucking grenade launcher?”

“Yep,” Ray grinned, popping the p.

Dan shook his head, looking over at Gavin quizzically. “You've got yourself an interesting group of friends, Gav.”

It took a little while to catch Dan up on everything that had happened, starting off with where Edgar had come from before they quickly ran through which of his people they had taken down so far. Geoff did most of the talking, and he left out some details – Ryan's abandonment of Gavin back at the Corpirate's, for one. Everything about his old team, only saying that he'd run into Edgar before and wanted revenge. He also didn't mention anything about their relationship, even Michael and Ray's – it wasn't relevant, anyway, and he was evidently waiting for Gavin to tell Dan himself, if and when he wanted to.

“And now,” Geoff said. “Since we got rid of most of his mercs it looks like he's started trying to fuck with us again. He's gone and hired you guys' old team.”

Dan stirred at this, head snapping over to look at Gavin. “What, Andrew?”

“Yeah,” Gavin replied, quietly.

In the excitement of Dan returning his stress over that little fact had faded a bit, but now it came back with full force.

When he saw Andrew back at the Corpirate's mansion he hadn't been able to believe it. It didn't help that he'd only gotten a quick glimpse, hadn't been sure if he'd really seen him or if his mind was playing tricks with him.

It had been awful.

Because he had been fine, _better_ than fine, so happy that for once things seemed to be going his way. Having joined the others his mood had lifted incredibly and for the first time in a long time he'd felt like he was making solid progress, like he was taking proper steps to getting his life on track again.

But all it had taken was that one little glimpse to set everything awry again. He hadn't ever thought he'd see Andrew again and hadn't realised it would be so terrible when he did. It had all come crashing back down on him, his helplessness, his desperation.

Worse than that, though, was the fact that he thought he _had_ made enough progress to be over it, that he'd recovered enough by now that something like that wouldn't affect him. But he hadn't, it seemed, and the downward spiral had been immense; he'd felt drained again, lethargic and sick, unable to stop thinking about it, about Barry, the nightmares returning with force. And all through it a strange odd guiltiness, like he was letting down the others, like if he told them what was going on they'd feel bad that their love, their relationship hadn't been enough to stop him backsliding.

“He fucking went out and hired Andrew just to mess with you,” Dan repeated, starting to look properly angry now.

“That's the gist of it,” Gavin said, and forced a laugh. “He's committed, I'll give him that. Don't know how he found out what happened with us-”

“I'm going to kill him,” Dan declared, simply. “I shall rip his bleedin' throat out.”

“I think Ryan has dibs on that,” Michael said, and Dan glanced up at the man, stiffening a little. Ryan was hanging back by the wall now, arms folded, and hadn't said a word in the entire time Geoff told the story.

“Yeah, well. Andrew's throat then. He must know what he's doing, working for that fucker. Always was a douche, even before he...” he trailed off, looking towards Gavin then.

Gavin was forcing a smile but he knew Dan could see right through it, to just how much this was scaring him. And God it was a _relief_ to have him back; Dan knew him better than anyone. Had been there through all his rises and falls – mostly falls – after Barry. He didn't have to try and look strong for Dan; he'd seen him at his lowest and still stayed.

“Speaking of messing with people,” Jack spoke up. “When we ran into Andrew earlier today he gave us this to give to you, Ryan.” He produced the pouch from his jacket and Ryan pushed off the wall, striding over to them. He held out his hand but Jack hesitated.

“Ry... whatever's in here Edgar _wants_ you to look at it, are you sure-”

“I'm sure,” Ryan replied shortly.

Gavin saw Michael and Ray exchange worried glances. He couldn't help but feel extremely concerned himself; Edgar'd known exactly where to push on him, after all, and Ryan had just as many ghosts. He watched with baited breath as Jack handed the bag over and Ryan unceremoniously pulled open the drawstrings and looked inside.

With the mask on it was impossible to tell what he was thinking, but Gavin saw the way he went stiff, stood up a little straighter. Hands clenched around the bag until his knuckles turned white. Ryan was standing mostly facing away from him but he caught a faint glimpse of him pulling something up out of the bag that looked like a jewellery chain, of him rummaging through and drawing out a few other small objects before shoving them back inside and stuffing the bag into his jacket pocket.

“What is it?” Michael asked, voice tight – hadn't seen much either, it seemed.

Ryan just shook his head.

“A similar message to what he gave Geoff,” he replied, and barked out a gruff laugh, but Gavin knew him well enough by now to pick up the undercurrent of upset in his voice. “A very unsubtle hint that he intends to come after all of us and when he does he'll kill the rest of you first.”

He glanced over at Dan, obviously unwilling to go into more details in front of a stranger, and Gavin bit his lip.

“So what now?” Ray spoke up quietly. He looked concerned – they all did – but there was no way they could get Ryan to open up with Dan in the room, so it would have to wait for later.

“Now it's up to you to find the bastard,” Geoff said, turning to Gavin. “You have enough to get started on for now, right?”

Gavin nodded. “Yeah. I can start trying to track down Andrew and all too, now that we know they're working for him.”

“What about you?” Jack turned to Dan, who raised and lowered a shoulder.

“I've finished what I was doing in England. Came back here to find Gav and it looks like he's with you for the time being, so...”

It was going to be rather a lot longer than just 'the time being', but he didn't have to tell Dan that now. As it was, Gavin looked at Geoff expectantly, and after the moment he gave a nod.

“We could do with another gun to take care of this Edgar shit.”

“In that case, I'm in,” Dan said, and gave a rather feral sort of grin. “With some great timing too. I'd hate to miss the chance to kick Andrew's teeth in.”

Geoff nodded. His phone started buzzing and he pulled it out with a sigh.

“I've got a lot of shit to sort out after what Edgar did today,” he muttered, accepting the call and wandering out of the room as he put his phone to his ear. Jack moved after him, getting his own phone out to help lessen the load, it seemed.

Dan started to get up off the couch but winced, hand going to his abdomen, and a flash of concern hit Gavin.

“You injured?”

“Might've been stabbed back in England,” he admitted, with a rather pained grin. “Just a little.”

“Oh, okay, just a little, minor stab!” Gavin shoved him back down onto the couch. “Bloody hell, B.”

“I'm fine! Patched it up. It's pulling a little after your... friend there hit me in the stomach.” His eyes went to Ryan again.

“I'm so sorry,” Ryan said drily, and promptly turned and left the room.

Michael and Ray exchanged a glance before Ray followed Ryan out. Gavin looked after him in concern, worried about how quiet he'd gotten, but he was quickly distracted when Dan groaned again.

“Stop your moaning and take your shirt off so I can see how badly you got yourself banged up,” he said.

“Alright, alright.” Pulling a face at him Dan stripped off his jacket and shirt. Gavin winced in sympathy; there was a nasty wound across his left side. The stitches had ripped a little at one end and it was dribbling blood; his chest and side were fairly bruised too.

“How'd this happen?”

Dan shrugged. “On the job.”

“How'd that go, anyway?”

“The usual. You know. Stolen drug money, annoyingly slippery crooks. Got them in the end though.” He winced as Gavin prodded at his ribs. “Careful, B. They're not broken, I checked. Anyway, I'm glad to be back.”

“You're staying, then?”

“Unless _you_ want to go back to England.”

Gavin looked up at him. “You just gonna follow me around like some sort of baby duckling?”

“I think we already established that I imprinted on you at first meeting.” Dan grinned. “Can't get rid of me now.”

Gavin laughed, a little startled. Again he was hit by a rush of warm relief, affection – it had been months since he saw Dan but it was all coming back to him now, how close they had been despite only having met after the one job. It was easy to feel too needy, too clingy, especially when he _needed_ so much from people. Reassurance and trust and patience. But Dan had never complained, not once, and his unwavering loyalty now made Gavin feel suddenly better, like even if he had taken a great many steps back in the last few days over this Andrew business, it would all be okay in the end.

“Gav,” a voice said behind him, and he turned to see Michael, holding out the first aid kid.

“Thanks Michael.” He took it and watched as the other man settled in a nearby chair, leaning forward to watch him. Eyes tracing over Dan cautiously.

“Gotta say, you're younger than I imagined,” Michael said eventually, and Dan barked out a startled laugh.

“Really? Gav talk about me much, did he?”

“Not a lot,” Michael replied, and Dan raised his eyebrows.

“Not sure if I should be hurt or relieved- ow, careful.”

“Careful yourself.” Gavin swiped again at his wound, then paused, biting his lip.

It was coming back to him now a bit, the time Dan had done this same thing for him. Patched him up back in his apartment after rescuing him from Barry. He'd been nearly catatonic at the time but he still remembered flashes of it. Dan's careful hands. Muttered curses. How Gavin'd closed his eyes because he didn't want to look down and see what had happened to him. It felt odd to be returning the favour now.

“You're going wherever Gavin goes then?” Michael asked slowly, and Gavin glanced over at him.

It must be weird for the others having Dan show up again. Six was already a crowd in this house and they'd barely managed to get a fragile balance between them with the relationship so new. Throwing someone else in there – someone who Gavin knew very well but the rest of them didn't at all – it couldn't be denied that it made things a little awkward for everyone.

Dan shrugged. “Might as well, right? We work well together.” He glanced over at Gavin. “Seems like you're up to taking jobs again, at least.”

“Geoff's, uh...” Gavin trailed off, licking his lips nervously. “Geoff's actually offered me a job after all this.”

Dan stiffened. “Geoff Ramsey offered you a job.”

“Yeah. All of us, actually.” He glanced over at Michael, who was staring at him steadily, but couldn't quite work out what he was thinking. And he couldn't say it, couldn't drop the ' _oh yeah, also, we're all dating each other. Funny story that, B'_ bomb just yet – he hated defining things like that, especially something this new.

“By all of us are you including...?” Dan trailed off and Gavin nodded, distracting himself by sticking a patch over Dan's cut.

“Including Ryan, yeah.”

“You're on a first name basis with the mad mercenary.” Dan let out a little breath. “Jesus bleedin' Christ, Gav, what have you been up to while I was away?”

Gavin barked out a laugh. “It's been a trip, that's for sure. Ryan's a good guy, he... he took care of me. They all did.”

Dan stared at him a moment, then switched his gaze to Michael, who looked back earnestly.

“You didn't mention him on the phone,” Dan said slowly, and Gavin shook his head.

“Thought it might alarm you.”

“More than getting punched in the face by him while looking for you?” Dan shook his head. “Fuck. You trust him though.”

“Yeah,” Gavin said, and sat back, brushing his hair out of his face. He met Dan's eyes and nodded firmly. “I... _we_... got to know him pretty well. So yes, I do trust him.”

Dan glanced between Gavin and Michael and frowned a bit, and Gavin could tell that he was a little confused. That he knew something else was up here, some reason why they would all be so close to the most notoriously mysterious criminal in the country. But now wasn't the time to push, so Dan just nodded.

“Okay. Okay.”

He knew how much it meant for Gavin to say that. They'd have words later, probably, but for now he settled back against the couch and starting catching Gavin up on exactly how things had gone back in the UK. And Gavin let everything else fall away from his mind; Edgar and Andrew and all of it. Just listened, glad enough to have him back.  


* * *

  
He couldn't ignore things forever, though.

He didn't find himself alone until later that night, after they'd all eaten and had split off into watches. Geoff was still taking calls from his crew, still trying to keep everything in order after the disasters of today. Being with the others had distracted Gavin some, but now that he was by himself in the bathroom it all came rushing back in.

Dan was back but Andrew was back too, and Gavin hated himself for it but he couldn't help but react. He didn't want to give Edgar the satisfaction of getting to him but he'd been worked up over this for too long. Couldn't help how the mere thought of having to face the man who'd abandoned him again made his hands start to shake, his palms sweat, his breathing and heart rate pick up until he was struggling to stay calm.

_Dan's here_ , he reminded himself, _Dan's here, they're all here, you're not alone._

It still didn't help.

Again that odd guiltiness. Because he did trust the others – he did _love_ them, even if he wouldn't label it just yet – and it would be easy, so easy to just fall back and let them help him.

_But what if they can't help?_

Another reason why he'd been reluctant to tell them, because what if this didn't work out, what if they tried and nothing happened and they – they got annoyed with him, or blamed themselves for not being able to make him better?

And he knew, innately that that wouldn't happen. But even if the others were okay with how long it was taking him to recover, _he_ wasn't – and coming up against these walls all the time was just- frustrating.

But Dan was here now, Dan could help.

He'd been brushing his teeth but as he finished up his mind flashed back over the events of the day. The memory of those terrible burned bodies and how it had brought everything rushing back.

The thought of what Edgar had done to that man in the restaurant still haunted him. Now he thought of it again and choked suddenly, the taste of toothpaste too thick on his tongue. He gagged into the sink, his stomach twisting, struggling not to throw up. Ended up having a coughing fit when he tried to rinse his mouth out and gagged on the water.

Someone rapped on the door of the bathroom and he jumped a mile.

“Okay in there?” Ryan's voice called out.

“Fine,” Gavin croaked back. He spat into the sink a few times before washing his hands, glancing in the mirror as he turned back towards the door. He looked like shit, but then again they all did, exhausted and stressed with dark bags under his eyes.

He opened the door to find Ryan waiting outside. The house was still and quiet. He could hear the others talking softly in the next room but there was little traffic noise outside. Part of him missed the distracting sounds of the city; the quiet out here tended to leave him alone with his thoughts. But the city also felt dangerous nowadays, Edgar around every corner.

Ryan had his mask on but Gavin could see the weary slump of his shoulders. Without really thinking about it he moved forward and hugged him, wrapping his arms around his waist and burying his face in his chest. Ryan let out a startled noise but quickly hugged him back.

Letting himself have the contact, the affection that he'd been holding back from the last few days was a relief; Dan's return had triggered some willingness to accept their help, at least, he didn't know how it made sense but somehow it did.

“Bad day,” he murmured, and Ryan made a questioning sound.

“Dan came back.”

“Yeah, but. Apart from that.”

“You got that right.” His hand moved to rub Gavin's back and Gavin closed his eyes, letting the touch sooth him.

“I forgot to say thanks before,” he said. “For talking me down from that panic attack.”

“You don't need to thank me for that, Gavin.”

“I know, but. I wanted to.” He looked up. Saw how tired Ryan's eyes were behind the mask. Remembered how he'd disappeared earlier and hadn't come back inside for a while. “You didn't eat with us.”

“I had a lot on my mind,” Ryan replied, but Gavin knew Dan had been a part of it too, that Ryan didn't want to take his mask off in front of him. He bit his lip.

“Can I ask what was in the bag?”

Ryan let out a heavy sigh. He let go of Gavin and took a step back, reaching up to rub his hands over his face. For a moment Gavin thought he wasn't going to answer. Felt a vague sort of disappointment but also some resignation; he couldn't expect Ryan to open up completely when he himself wouldn't, after all.

But then Ryan reached out and took the bag from his jacket. Passed it to Gavin silently.

He felt strangely nervous as he opened the pouch and fished inside. Was confused for a second as he drew out a myriad of trinkets, one at a time. A pair of sunglasses, one of the lens cracked. A broken jewellery chain. Some rings. The handle of a fighting knife, the blade snapped off close to the hilt.

“What is all this?” he asked quietly.

“Souvenirs.” Ryan spat the word. “He killed my old team and he fucking kept _souvenirs_.”

“God, Ryan.” Gavin felt sick suddenly, felt like he was trespassing on some forbidden territory. He quickly handed the bag back over, or tried to – Ryan didn't take it. Kept his fists clenched tightly by his sides.

“With Geoff,” Ryan said, “He's trying to scare him. Even if he can't frighten him into surrendering he can make him worry about you guys. Fear makes you emotional and emotion makes you sloppy. It's the same with you. He's trying to scare you so you won't be able to focus on your work. But that...” he jerked his head towards the bag. “He's not trying to scare me.”

“Then what?”

“Angry. He's trying to make me angry.”

“Emotion makes you sloppy,” Gavin repeated quietly, and Ryan nodded.

“Exactly. And it's working. Fuck but it's working. It's... it's like Andrew for you. Rubbing salt in a wound I hoped had healed enough for it not to hurt so much anymore.”

Gavin nodded. Ryan knew what it was like, to want to heal so desperately. Except Ryan didn't have a Dan to come back for him.

“Anyway.” Ryan straightened up. Did take the bag back then. “Remember what I told you back at your flat?”

“Time heals a lot of things,” Gavin replied, and Ryan nodded.

“Others we learn to live with,” he finished, and reached out, cupping Gavin's cheek. “You're gonna be fine, you know.”

“So will you,” Gavin replied, and Ryan raised and lowered one shoulder.

“Maybe. The others want to talk to you, come on.”

 

* * *

  
The other four were waiting in the living room, and when Gavin entered with Ryan they looked up expectantly, and he knew they'd been talking about him.

“Where's Dan?” he asked, looking around and finding his friend absent.

“In the garage waiting for you,” Geoff replied. “I figured you'd want to be working tonight.”

“Yeah,” Gavin said, “Don't think I could sleep if I tried.”

“That's what I thought. C'mere,” Geoff said, and Gavin wandered over, only to yelp when Ray grabbed him around the waist and pulled him into his lap with a laugh. Ryan walked over too but remained standing, next to where Jack said. Gavin saw them exchange an amused glance when he tried to get comfortable and Ray poked him in the side.

“Stop squirming, Jesus. You have a really bony ass.”

Geoff smiled, but quickly continued over them.

“Edgar hit us hard today. And he's trying to psych us out, we know that. Gav, Ryan, you two...” he trailed off, looking over at them in concern. Didn't seem to know how to phrase whatever he wanted to say for a moment, before he settled on, “I know this is... really new. For you two and for all of us. But Edgar doesn't know about _this_.” He gestured between them all. “And that's his downfall, okay? He's relying on messing with you guys by making you think you're alone. But together we've taken down 99% of his men. Home stretch and then we can all relax and work this out.”

Ryan nodded, Gavin too. It was easy to get caught up in the threat of Edgar sometimes, to forget that there would be an _after_.

_Unless he kills us_.

It hit him suddenly that this could be over before it even again. That they might not all make it out of this alive. It had always been a worry, sure, but it was also easy to feel like Geoff was invincible, Ryan too, like they'd scrape through somehow. But suddenly he thought of the possibility that even if they defeated Edgar, all six of them might not make it. That they might come out of this without Michael, or Ray, or Jack –

_Stop it. This is exactly what Edgar wants you to think, what he wants you to be scared of. Stop it, it'll all be fine. Just_ stop.

“Okay then,” Geoff said, and grinned around at them all. And he looked tired, so tired, but at least he was smiling, here, with them, after this fuck-awful day. And it was nice to just be there, the six of them.

“Sorry about Dan coming here all seventh-wheel,” Gavin spoke up, and they all turned to him.

“Dude, no,” Michael said. “He can make you smile like that he's welcome to stay as long as he fucking well wants. Besides, he seems like a cool dude.”

Gavin laughed a bit. Felt Ray's arms tighten around his waist and turned to find him smiling at him. He leaned in and kissed the other man. Remembered how Ray had asked about the scars before and he'd pushed him away – hadn't wanted to think about it – but with Dan here he felt braver, safer, enough to think that maybe some time soon he'd tell Ray. It wasn't fair to leave him out of the loop, after all.

They began to drift apart after that, Ryan heading out on watch, the others making for bed. Gavin was leaving for the garage when he felt a hand on his wrist and turned to see Geoff.

“Hey Gavvy,” he said.

“Hey,” Gavin replied. He remembered then that they hadn't been on such good terms earlier – in everything that had happened that day he had quite forgotten.

Geoff was hanging back a little, almost hesitant to touch him, so Gavin stepped a bit closer. That seemed to spark his confidence; he reached out and rested his hands gently on Gavin's waist.

“Sorry about before,” Geoff said, earnestly. “I wasn't trying to push you around-”

“I know,” Gavin cut in. “And I was being a little minge myself, it wasn't just on you. I don't... it's not that I don't trust you, you know, I'm just...”

He trailed off, unsure, but Geoff just shook his head.

“You don't need to explain yourself. And if... if it's easier for you to talk to Dan than to us, that's fine, you know? We're not gonna hold that against you or anything. Whatever you need to do to feel better, we're behind you one hundred percent. Unless it involves midnight drinking sessions,” he added, and Gavin laughed. Joking about it made it seem better, lighter somehow.

“Okay,” he said.

“We're okay?” Geoff asked, and Gavin nodded.

“Of course. Now I just need to figure out how to tell Dan that I'm not only working for the overlord of AC, I'm making out with him on a regular basis.”

Geoff looked a bit worried. “If you don't want him to know we won't-”

“Geoff. It's fine. I'm going to tell him, just – once I figure out how.” He shifted, a bit uncomfortably. “I don't... I don't do this much. Even with one person, let alone five, this sort of serious... thing, I don't know, so it's. Weird to label it. But I'm going to tell him. Eventually.”

“Okay. Don't push yourself.” Geoff leaned in and pecked him softly on the lips; Gavin pressed against him, deepening the kiss more before he pulled back.

“Gotta go work,” he said, jerking his head towards the garage gate. “Hunt down that bovine bastard.”

“And his sidekick, the porcine prick,” Geoff added, and Gavin grinned.

“Nice one. The taurine tosspot.”

“You're on fire. Go get him, then.”

Gavin was still grinning when he walked out into the garage. Dan was sitting by the computers and looked up at his entrance. Seemed pleased to see him smiling.

“You're in a good mood, B.”

“I'm glad you're back,” he said, smiling as he sat down and moved to turn on the computer. Dan smiled back for a moment before reaching out to give him a noogie.

“Aww, how sweet. You missed me?”

“Shut up.” Gavin shoved him away, laughing. “I... tried to call you this morning, actually. Guess you were on the plane.”

“Yeah, sorry. Got rid of my phone after that job finished.”

Gavin nodded. And _God_ , this morning had sucked. Dan not picking up his phone had been the last straw in a string of steadily increasing stresses and it had set him off, had triggered that breakdown in the kitchen. His mood had turned around almost completely since then and it was exhausting.

“S'fine. At least you're here now.”

“'Course I am. I said I'd always come back for you, didn't I?” Something oddly serious in Dan's voice now. “Gav, I... I called Andrew, you know, when I couldn't find you right away after Barry.”

Gavin swallowed, his smile fading. “What'd he say?”

“He told me you'd got away. Fucking lied to me. Made me think you were safe when he knew damn well Barry had you. I'd've found you sooner if it hadn't been for that.” His fists clenched. “I'm gonna fucking kill him. Who else from the team has Edgar got?”

“I saw Mike and Fred with them at the service station. That's all. Guess the rest got killed at the Corpirate's place.”

“I'll fuck them all up.”

“Dan,” Gavin warned, quietly.

“What?” Dan demanded. “You want them dead, don't you?”

“Yeah, just... I don't know.” He sighed, rubbing his temples, before turning back to his screen to work. He was having trouble getting into the Corpirate's hard drive. Knew he'd get there eventually but the process was tedious.

Dan watched him in silence for a little while and it felt like old times, back when they were first getting to know each other. His first proper friend in this new country, aside from Burnie. Their relationship had shifted so much from that now; Gavin had been confident before, always in control. Now he was not in control of anything much.

“Your friends,” Dan said abruptly, after some time had passed.

Gavin leaned back in his seat, stretching. “What about them?”

“They look at you,” Dan said slowly, “Like they're... I don't know. You seem really close to them.”

Gavin bit his lip.

He was happy Dan had arrived. But his return had also forced a great many things. Andrew was back and he could no longer lie to himself about that, so his friend – his protector – coming back made that, at least, move a little more seamlessly.

But it also meant that he was now faced with explaining to Dan that he was now in a relationship with the others. And that meant he had to admit it to himself, define it to himself. Putting it in words made it seem real and solid.

_Not that it wasn't real before_. But he was notoriously bad with commitment, with getting involved in things seriously, because when things got serious it meant that rejection, if or when it came, would hurt all the more. And that was something he found hard to deal with.

Like Ryan, he'd wanted to take this slowly. To just let it work itself out and not have to sit down and have a big old discussion about it.

But here was Dan, and now Gavin had to tell him, except he didn't know how and this was all happening too soon.

“We are close,” he managed finally. “They – they take care of me.”

“Including Haywood.”

“Including Ryan.” Gavin turned to face him properly. Dan seemed oddly preoccupied by Ryan and he knew why, knew he would have been too if their positions were reversed. “He's not... Dan, I know he seems all scary and violent and all but he's... he's different when you get to know him.”

“God's sake, B, we basically told each other horror stories about him back when we met. And now the two of you are all buddy-buddy. How did that even happen?”

“My irrepressible charm won him over,” Gavin said, grinning, and Dan just sighed, shaking his head.

“I'm just worried about you, he's... you know what we've heard about him. That he works alone. He's in it for himself.”

“That's not how it is,” Gavin said sharply.

Dan flinched a little, recoiling at his harsh tone, and Gavin felt suddenly bad. He couldn't blame him for being wary, knew at heart he just wanted to make sure Gavin didn't get hurt.

“We've... been through a lot these last few months,” he said, more softly. “We told you what happened but it... it doesn't compare to living it. Ryan's fine, trust me. Please.”

“You know I trust you,” Dan replied.

“Okay then.”

They settled into a peaceful quiet as Gavin got back to work. But he could practically see the gears turning in Dan's head as he tried to work things out. And it would be easy to joke about it – _don't hurt yourself thinking, B_ – but somehow he couldn't bring himself to do it. Because the others were important to him, so important, but putting it into words was hard and acknowledging it to himself was paramount before he could even begin to explain it to Dan.  


 

* * *

  
“Hey, sup,” Michael said, as he headed out onto the porch.

He saw Ryan tense at the greeting before looking up from where he'd been standing, leaning forward, arms folded on the balcony rail.

“You should be sleeping,” Ryan said, and Michael pulled a face at him.

“You don't know how creepy that sounds. You standing out here, in the dark, in your mask, all _you should be sleeping_ in that deep voice.”

“You don't like my deep voice?”

“I love your deep voice, just not when it's saying things like that. Sounds like you're about to murder me.”

Ryan laughed a bit, but it was weak, and Michael came up next to him. Didn't hesitate to put a hand on his shoulder and squeeze.

“You alright?”

“Yeah.” It came out too quickly, and Michael knew Ryan didn't even need to look at him to know that he knew it was a lie.

“Ray told me what you said to him before.”

After Michael had left Gavin and Dan alone to have some privacy he'd gone in search of his boyfriends. They'd been alone out on the porch, deep in discussion, and it was only after they'd all eaten that Ray had gotten Michael alone and told him what had been in the bag Edgar gave Ryan. That he'd admitted he was afraid – so afraid – of the same thing happening to them. That it was like a punch in the gut being faced with what he'd lost again, especially since he had even more to lose now.

“Yeah,” was all Ryan said, quietly.

Michael nudged him gently. “Hey, you don't have to talk about it. Just know I'm right behind you when we take this motherfucker down. I'll even, like, take pictures if you want.”

Ryan huffed out something like a laugh. “That won't be necessary.”

“Really? Seems like a real Kodak moment, killing the guy who...” He trailed off, unsure, but when Ryan just kept watching him levelly he finished. “Who murdered everyone you care about.”

“Trust me,” Ryan said, “I plan to remember it.”

“Okay then.”

They settled into a companionable silence, Michael joining him by the rail, their shoulders touching. He closed his eyes and thought back on today.

It had been pretty horrible. The tension between the others. The bombs. He knew that much as they tried to play it off, to reassure themselves that they were still on top, that Edgar had now used up most of his resources – it was a serious blow for Geoff's empire.

_And the bodies._

He had toughed it out in front of the others but when he saw them swinging there – when Ryan pointed out it was meant to be _them_ – he had been seized with a sudden and acute _fear_. He'd now witnessed first hand the sort of things Edgar's twisted mind could come up with. And, shamefully, he'd wished for a moment that he and Ray had never gotten involved in it, that they were still at home, safe.

It had faded quickly but it came back to him now, that fear, that horror. He didn't realise how solemn he'd gotten, how quiet, until he felt a hand brush along his arm and turned to see Ryan. His eyes soft with concern under the mask, nearly shining in the yellow porch light.

“For a long time,” Ryan said, looking down at him – voice quiet, hesitant, oddly formal. “I was consumed by the past. I am trying to get over it.”

Michael blinked. “It's not something you need to _get over_. We don't expect you to just... forget them, to move on and be fine, any more than we expect Gavin to.”

“I know. But I'm trying to for _me_. I don't want this,” he gestured between them, “To be defined as just another thing, as version 2.0 of my old team. It's not. You're different. It's gonna work out differently.”

“Good,” Michael said. He stepped in to wrap his arm around Ryan's waist, pressing in closer to his side. Partially because it was cold out here, partially because the contact helped, grounded him.

“So Dan,” he spoke up then, thinking it best to shift to a marginally lighter topic. “Interesting timing he has, showing up now.”

“It's good,” Ryan replied. “Gavin wasn't doing well. This is exactly what he needs.”

_But not exactly what we need,_ Michael couldn't help but think, a childishly shameful sort of resentment because the house was crowded enough already, they were barely managing to sort out the six of them without some random in the mix. But he shoved it away; it was silly and petty and he _was_ happy, was relieved because Gavin was smiling again. The improvement he showed in just hours after Dan arrived was immense. And there were few things Michael wanted more than for Gavin to be happy and fine.

“You're right,” he replied.

Ryan looked over at him. “You're not jealous?” he asked, sounding very amused.

“No!” He _wasn't_ , of course not. “I'm not.”

“Alright, alright. Just. I know how you get.”

“That was one fucking time and you can't blame me, things with Ray were... different.” He shook his head. “Dan and Gavin are... I know why Gav trusts him so much, but he – he trusts us too. If he's more comfortable telling Dan some of the stuff that he won't tell _us_ I can – I can get that.”

“Okay,” Ryan said. “Good.”

Michael looked over at him. “Are _you_ alright with this?”

“With what?”

“Dan. I mean, he looks at you like... I don't know. He doesn't trust you. Doesn't trust any of us. But you most of all.”

“I can understand why.”

“Me too, but. Is it hard? After you've... you've changed so much with us. To have someone look at you like that again.”

Ryan thought about it. After a while, though, he shook his head.

“It doesn't bother me. Today I went out with Geoff and everyone at that forum was scared of me. I knew what I was getting into when I built up this reputation. And I enjoy it, sometimes. Having that power. It meant little when I was on my own. But I can use it now to protect you guys.”

Michael stared at him.

“You really are just a giant fucking sap, aren't you?” he said, then yelped when Ryan turned on him and seized him. “What are – ah! Are you – aha – are you fucking _tickling me Jesus Christ Ryan stop_ -”

Ryan huffed, letting him go as suddenly as he'd grabbed him. Michael scowled at him, straightening his jacket, panting a little, but couldn't help but grin. He was _sure_ Ryan was smiling under that mask.

“You're just one surprise after another, Haywood.”

“I'm the gift that keeps on giving,” Ryan muttered, and Michael snorted.

“Right, well. Goodnight then. Actually sleep tonight, please."

“I can only try.” Ryan sounded happier than he had before, was standing up straighter as Michael left him, and he couldn't help but smile at it.  


* * *

  
Except, as it turned out, it was him who did not get much sleep.

He drifted off on the couch and was plagued by terrible dreams. The memory of those burned corpses hanging before him, except in the nightmare they were not Geoff’s random guards but Jack, Ray, Gavin. Recognisable under the terrible burns, faces twisted and contorted in agony. Swinging gently in the wind as he stood frozen unable to do anything but stare at them.

“It's just the three of us now,” Ryan said, except suddenly in the dream Michael somehow knew that everyone they had killed so far was not really dead. That the Corpirate was still alive, and Beardo, and Clarence, Thaddeus and Shadles.

And the duck.

Still out there, waiting, alive again. They had made no progress but they had lost half their group and _Ray, Ray,_ Ray was dead and swinging there before him, and Dan was coming back and they would have to tell him that Gavin was dead, that they hadn't been able to protect him, and-

He woke with a terrible start, heart pounding, gasping for breath. Dazed and unsure where he was.

_Oh God._

A horrible vulnerability took over him. He had never been one to have nightmares, no more than the occasional one after a scare on a job. And after the dream he'd had about the duck their first night here he suddenly feared that this might be becoming a regular thing.

_No wonder Gavin's so stressed out all the time if this is what he goes through every night_.

He took deep, calming breaths, trying to get his bearings. Slowly he realised where he was, remembered that it had all just been a dream. They were all dead, dead, even the duck. Everyone else was here and alive in the house. They were _fine_.

A slightly awkward cough had him sitting bolt upright on the couch, scrabbling for his gun. His eyes adjusting still to the dark of the room in the dimness; it wasn't quite dawn. He couldn't make out who it was hovering in the doorway; too tall to be Ray or Gavin. Didn't seem like Jack.

“Who's there?” he called out, his voice came out a hoarse croak.

“It's me.”

For a moment he didn't recognise the voice, but then he realised. _Dan_.

“What do you want?” He snapped it out, a bit too harshly.

Dan approached slowly. As he stepped closer Michael could make out his features in the faint light coming in from the porch. His face soft, concerned.

“You alright, mate?” he asked.

“I'm fine,” Michael barked, brusquely. Felt embarrassment burn low in his gut. If there was anything he hated it was looking and feeling vulnerable in front of others. He drew his knees up on the couch – put his gun down in favour of pulling the blankets up tighter around him.

He wanted Ray.

Dan stepped closer, again.

“Bad dreams?” he asked.

If there had been pity in his tone Michael didn't think he could stand it. But there wasn't, just a flat sort of understanding. Like it was perfectly reasonable for him to have nightmares – he supposed it was – and that was the only reason Michael gave a jerking nod.

“We saw some shit today,” he said gruffly, and Dan nodded.

“So I heard. Gav hasn't slept either. Still working away.”

“He's getting better,” Michael said. “Ryan gave him some sleeping pills.”

Dan frowned a bit and Michael fought not to roll his eyes. Reminded himself that of course Dan didn't know Ryan as they did, how much he cared about Gavin.

“That's probably better,” Dan said. “There's only so much you can do to help when he has the nightmares.”

“Tell me about it,” Michael muttered, and Dan stirred.

“You helped him.” It wasn't really a question but Michael nodded anyway.

“Yeah. As much as I could, anyway, I... I wasn't really sure what to do.”

Dan was very quiet a moment. Then he moved, coming to sit next to Michael on the couch. Michael let him, shifting over to make room.

“Whatever you did,” Dan said, “It helped. When he called me up, last month – I could hardly believe how good he sounded. That he was actually back at work. Maybe it doesn't seem like it because you didn't know him before, when he was really bad.”

“I don't think any of this experience has really helped,” Michael muttered.

“Maybe not the job,” Dan said. “But you guys. He trusts you.”

Michael just shrugged, and Dan continued to stare at him intently.

“Thank you,” he said eventually, and Michael glanced up.

“It's nothing,” he replied. “Gavin's my... friend. I'm glad to do whatever I can to help him.”

Dan smiled, and after a minute Michael smiled back. And there was something very reassuring about Dan's mere presence. Maybe because he knew how much he had helped Gavin before. Something about his large solid strength that was comforting.

The front door opened and Ray shuffled in. He'd been on watch, it seemed, and had heard them speaking. Michael saw his eyes scan over him and something of his earlier distress must have shown in his face, because Ray frowned.

“Okay?” Ray called out, casually, with a glance at Dan.

Michael nodded.

“Fine.”

Ray came up to him and Michael reached out for him automatically. Drew him close and kissed him, drinking in the relief that he was still here, warm and solid in his arms. _Alive_. Let any lingering paranoia from the dream melt away.

When they pulled apart he turned to see Dan looking at them quizzically.

“You two are...” he trailed off, and Michael nodded.

“Yeah,” he replied. “Got a problem with it?”

“Of course not,” Dan replied easily. “Just surprised is all. You don't see that much in our business. 'cept with Pattillo and Ramsey, of course.”

Michael looked over at Ray and saw him looking back, the unspoken question in both their eyes – _should we tell him?_ That the two of them were with Jack and Geoff even if they didn't mention Gavin?

In the end they both seemed to decide against it. Michael got up and moved off to the kitchen to make coffee, the others trailing behind, and conversation devolved towards jobs they'd taken before, the areas they specialised in.

It wasn't hard to like Dan; he there was something very lovable about him. He was charming and funny, and very experienced in what he did despite his youth. Michael let himself get caught up in the others' stories of things he'd done in England, let it take his mind away from everything else for a while.  


* * *

  
Another slow day.

“How's Kerry?” Michael asked, when Geoff finally put his phone down after, it seemed, having spoken into it for about four hours straight. He was lying on the couch, cataloguing the ordnance they had left, trying not to think of everything Edgar might be getting up to. Jack, Ray and Ryan were out scouting the area just in case Edgar’s men had followed them back, making sure they weren't about to be surprised.

“He'll be okay,” Geoff replied. “He's stable. Should be no permanent damage.”

“That's good,” Michael replied, sitting up a bit.

Geoff sighed, rubbing at his temples, and Michael got up and walked over to him. Stood behind him and started massaging his shoulders. He could feel the tension that had built up in the older man; there were rock hard knots in his back, between his shoulders blades, and Michael dug his thumbs in, working them out slowly.

Geoff let out a groan. “Fuck that's good.”

“Yeah?” Michael kneaded his shoulders again, firmly. “I should quit explosives and become a fucking masseuse.”

“That'd be one of the most hysterically drastic career changes I've ever heard of.” He relaxed a little under Michael’s ministrations. “Mmm, you're fucking good at this.”

“I give a mean BJ too,” Michael replied immediately. “Pretty sure that would help relieve some stress.”

Geoff laughed, but there was an undercurrent of something else.

“Yeah? Maybe later.”

“Definitely later,” Michael said, and Geoff cracked his eyes open. Tilted his head back to look up at him with a sleepy grin.

Michael patted him on the shoulder one last time before stepping back.

“Should go offer my services to Gav. He's been hunched over that screen all day.”

“Is Dan feeding him grapes and fanning him gently with a giant palm frond?”

“I wouldn't be surprised. Guy fucking cooked him eggs this morning.” Michael shook his head, tutting. “We may have some competition in our boyfriend duties.”

“Just go down there and make sure they're not making out.” Geoff was teasing, though, and Michael rolled his eyes, giving a mocking salute before heading off.

It was not quite so cold today as it had been previously. Was still chilly out, though, and he was glad of his jacket when he headed out into the garage.

Dan and Gavin were talking excitedly between themselves as he came in, so engrossed in whatever they were doing that they didn't quite notice his approach until he was right behind them.

“Guess who,” Michael said, clapping his hands over Gavin's eyes.

He gave a funny sort of squawk. “Michael?”

“Yep.”

“Did you bring me snacks?”

“No, but I can offer a back massage.” He cracked his knuckles, hands coming down to Gavin's shoulders. Saw Dan shooting him an amused and slightly curious look.

“Maybe in a bit. Look at this first,” Gavin said, and Michael shifted his grip to the back of his chair, leaning in to look at the screen. It was street camera footage of the roads around Achievement City.

“So I wasn't getting anywhere solid on the Corpirate stuff,” Gavin replied. “So I figured I'd focus on Andrew first. And Dan and I know a lot about him, right, we literally worked together for months. I know where he lives and some of his hideouts. And Edgar's got him working in different ones, but he still goes to the old ones to pick up ammo and shit, he still goes to his own haunts. So I went and had a look and I got a glimpse of him. Following it up now.”

Michael straightened up. “You think he could lead us to Edgar?”

“I don't know! Maybe! But we saw him with the pig, right? So he can definitely lead us to _him_.”

“Gavin, you're fucking brilliant.” Part of Michael wanted to grab him and kiss him right then and there. But Dan was watching, and he hesitated. Instead pulled Gavin in for a hug, though even then it was a little too intimate; Gavin's hands came up around his back and they embraced for perhaps a bit longer than necessary.

“Don't get too excited yet. I still need to track him down,” Gavin said, pulling back.

Michael reached out and ruffled his hair.

“A hundred free back rubs for you,” he declared, and Gavin chuckled.

Dan was still watching him in bemusement, and Michael felt suddenly oddly self conscious.

“I can go tell Geoff about this, right?” he asked, and Gavin nodded.

“Tell him we at least have a lead now.”

“Sweet.”  


* * *

  
Having at least something solid to work with after going so long without a lead lifted Michael's spirits exponentially, and Geoff's too – if the way he grabbed Michael and started making out with him when he heard the news was any indication.

Michael certainly was not complaining. After the stress of yesterday there was something nice about it; sprawled in Geoff's lap on the cheap couch. Slow sloppy kisses and wandering hands, too warm from being held over the radiator. Everything easy and leisurely and relaxed, knowing they could take things further if they wanted to but not quite bothered enough to go there yet.

“Hey,” Michael said, eventually, a thought striking him when they broke apart some time later, a languid sort of sleepiness having started to take them over. “Hey, you should spend more time with Ray.”

“Why? He's said something?” Geoff asked, a little concern creeping into it.

Michael shrugged. “Not directly, but I know he wants to get more time in with you. Jack too.” It was easy for him to get along with Geoff and Jack; Ray had a bit harder. He was naturally more reserved, didn't tend to reach out the way Michael did. He supposed that was why he'd gotten along with Ryan better at the start. He was quiet so he didn't ask questions, didn't pry.

“Okay,” Geoff said. Nodded. “I'll keep that in mind.”

It was a little while later that Gavin emerged from the garage, heading into the kitchen to get a drink. Michael and Geoff instantly got up and followed him.

“You got him yet?” Geoff asked.

“Really, really close,” Gavin replied, turning to them with a grin.

Michael was taken by just how much of a heel face turn he'd done. Just yesterday he'd been so quiet he was barely talking to them. Had freaked out in this very kitchen, shaking and on the verge of breaking down right in front of them. And it he looked closely, it was still there – some exhaustion, some trepidation in his eyes.

But Dan coming back had, it seemed, done wonders to shock him out of his slump. There was something much brighter to his smile now, a lot less forced.

“And the pig's with him?”

“Caught a glimpse of them together, so if we find Andrew we're on the right track.”

Michael fist pumped, letting out a hiss of excitement. Geoff just surged forward and clasped Gavin's face between his hands.

“I could kiss you right now,” he declared, with a wide grin. “I _will_ kiss you right now.”

“Ooh, Geoff,” Gavin started, a little hesitantly, glancing over Geoff's shoulder towards the corridor behind them. Michael followed his gaze, but the hallway was empty, and Geoff was already moving forward to press their lips together. Gavin didn't push him away. Kissed back almost hungrily, like it was something he'd been missing.

Michael moved up behind him; wrapped his arms around Gavin's waist and stepped up to press his chest against his back, careful not to pull him back away from Geoff. It was something he was still getting used to; working out how to manoeuvre things with three people instead of two. He pressed his lips just under Gavin's ear, trailed kisses down the side of his neck and felt him shiver, letting out a soft gasp against Geoff's mouth.

“Gav?”

The voice had them springing apart almost guiltily, whirling around to see Dan standing in the doorway.

The look on his face was hilarious. Michael had never seen someone so perfectly embody the word 'flabbergasted' but there was really no other way to describe how his expression contorted at the sight of his friend sandwiched between two men who he knew for a fact were both taken.

“D-dan,” Gavin croaked out. Michael turned towards him and all amusement faded away because Gavin did not look like he was finding this funny, he looked something like alarmed, and the last thing Michael had wanted to do was push him into telling Dan anything he wasn't ready to yet. He realised belatedly that that was what Gavin had been trying to warn Geoff of earlier; that Dan had come back into the house too, but had obviously ended up too swept away to bother with it, had thought it safe.

“I, I don't...” Dan glanced between the three of them, seeming quite honestly lost for words. “I don't... understand?”

Gavin's mouth was opening and shutting like a fish, and Michael reached out and squeezed his hand.

“It's fine, Gav,” he whispered. He didn't know Dan well, sure, but he obviously cared deeply about Gavin and he wouldn't react badly, or so Michael hoped, anyway. But Gavin was shaking his head, and Michael realised quickly that it wasn't about that – it wasn't about what Dan might think, it was something else entirely.

Something wormed in his gut then, because if it wasn't about Gavin not wanting to admit the relationship to Dan it must be about admitting it to _himself_. And maybe he had known Gavin had his uncertainties about the relationship, Ryan too, it was evident in how slowly they took things, how they still shied away at times, but it was a bit of a slap in the face that he was so unsure that he didn't even want to tell one of his closest friends about it.

“Dan,” Geoff started, stepping forward, but Dan just turned to him with a very confused frown.

“You're with Jack,” he said, almost accusingly. He turned to Michael then, jabbed a finger at him. “You're with Ray!”

Geoff and Michael glanced at each other, then looked at Gavin, neither, it seemed, wanting to jump in and say it for him. But when he didn't say a word, and Dan was still waiting for an explanation, Geoff finally nodded.

“Yes,” he said. “That's right. We're also with Gavin.”

“What the fuck?”

It wasn't judgement in Dan's voice, just honest confusion.

“I'm with Jack,” Geoff repeated, patiently. “But I'm also with Michael. And Ray. And Gavin.”

“...I don't get it.”

“For God's _sake_ , Dan,” Gavin burst out then, something a little hysterical in it. “Have you never bloody heard of polyamory?”

Dan gaped for a second. Then looked between all three of them again, and did a double take.

“You... Gav... with all of them?”

Gavin covered his face and Michael grabbed his shoulders.

“Hey, hey. It's okay.”

“I know,” Gavin replied, voice muffled. “I'm just – not good at this, I don't. I don't do this a lot.”

Michael abruptly remembered what Gavin had told he and Jack back in Ryan's apartment. It felt so long ago now. His commitment issues, how he didn't do relationships a lot for fear of failure or rejection. Committing to this, then – even if he'd agreed to be with them it seemed he was still having a little trouble wrapping his head around it to himself.

“So this is...” Dan trailed off. Still seemed very bewildered. “This is why you're all so close? You're all _fucking_ each other?”

“Well, we're not really up to the fucking part yet,” Michael replied, and Dan's brows furrowed.

“Looked pretty damn close to it when I walked in here!”

“Look, we were as surprised as you are when we worked out that we... wanted this,” Geoff said. There was something stern in his voice now. “I assure you we haven't done anything Gavin didn't want or agree to. This is – this is pretty damn new to us as well. We're working it out.”

“So you're telling me you put together this team – hired Gavin and all the rest – and somewhere along the line you, what. Went head over heels for all of them? Except Haywood,” Dan added, and they all froze a bit guiltily.

The look of pure horror on Dan's face was incredible.

“No,” he said. “Gav, no, you're not... you're not shagging the mad mercenary.”

“Like I said,” Michael repeated. “We're not up to the fucking part yet.”

“It's complicated, Dan,” Gavin said, finally dragging his eyes up to look at him.

“You've bloody well got that right, B,” Dan replied, and looked very pained. “I don't-”

Two things happened at once, then; the front door opened as the others returned from their trip, and Gavin's phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out, glancing at the screen, and muttered something about the computer having finished something before taking advantage of the distraction and slipping out of the room before anyone could stop him.

“Hey guys,” Jack's voice called out. He trooped in, the others trailing along behind, only for them all to pause as they noticed the standoff in the kitchen. Jack's eyes flickered to Dan, to the drawn look on his face, before he turned to Geoff. “What happened?”

“He found out,” Michael replied, eyes not leaving Dan, though most of him was screaming to leave and go after Gavin.

“About what?” Jack asked.

“The _six-way gay fucktruck_ , as Ray calls it,” Michael scoffed, and their eyes all went warily to Dan, who raised his hands defensively.

“I'm not – no judging here. I couldn't care less what the five of you get up to. But Gavin...” he trailed off, and for a moment he looked overwhelmed by the weight of what he'd just found out. Michael found he could hardly blame him. It was complex enough living it, let alone trying to wrap your head around it when you weren't involved.

He saw Geoff open his mouth to say something else, but before he could get a word out Gavin stepped back into the room.

They all turned to him expectantly, and when he spoke it was quick, flat.

“I've found Andrew, but he could be about to move. We need to leave right now.”

 

* * *

 

  
Part of Gavin well wished he'd stayed back at the house alone; he could certainly have done with the space. But like when they had gone to track down Thaddeus the Red, if he wanted to keep tabs on Andrew as he moved it would be easier for him to be close, out in the field with the others, so he found himself in a car with Jack and Michael, speeding back towards Achievement City.

_Dan knows._

It wasn't that it had been that big of a secret. He knew, knew he could explain things to his friend, that he'd get it eventually.

But it being out, someone else knowing about it – it suddenly made it all too real for Gavin that this was happening, that he was involved in this fucking weird-ass relationship and any attempt to back out now wouldn't just be seen as leaving but as _breaking up_. And breaking up was messy and complicated and he usually dealt with it by dropping all contact. But he couldn't do that here, not with these guys.

_Oh God._

He wasn't freaking out about it, though. He was a little unsettled, sure, a little put out, but determined to keep on keeping on, especially now that they had a hook in Edgar.

Jack and Michael kept looking at him in concern in the car as though they expected him to have a mental breakdown any minute, and to be completely honest it was getting on his nerves a little. And he knew it was irrational, knew he'd given them more than enough reason to think he was _fragile_ , that he was near breaking point. He couldn't help it, couldn’t help feeling so on edge, irritated by so many small things.

“Closing in now,” Jack said, and Gavin sat up a bit in his seat.

He'd tracked Andrew down to a little lodging complex in uptown AC, but he knew he'd be on the move and soon, that Edgar wouldn't be keeping his men in any one spot for two long. But he was there, now, and it was a better spot to catch him and the others off guard rather than when they were at one of Edgar's proper bases.

“Do you know which complex he's in, Gav?” Jack asked, and Gavin shook his head.

“Just that he's here, sorry. There're no cams in the rooms. If he uses his phone I can get a signal.”

“You're not waiting in the car on your own,” Michael said firmly, and Gavin nodded. They pulled up a little distance away and got out to travel on foot.

“Split up,” Geoff ordered – he and the others had parked as well, some way away, Dan pulling up on his bike. “Jack, Michael, you stick with Gav. Ryan, with me. Ray, you go with Dan. Stay in touch.” They had their earpieces in again.

“We'll take the east side,” Jack said.

Thus arranged, they headed off in their separate groups.

It was a very quiet area. The little two-storey buildings around the grey winding parking lot looked dismal and unfriendly, the blinds drawn on all of the windows, devoid of any personal furnishings except the occasional ratty looking hanging ornament or dying pot plant on one of the balconies outside. Cigarette butts and rubbish littered the ground. A very uneasy feeling grew in the pit of Gavin's stomach as he trailed along after Michael and Jack.

“All quiet here,” Ray's voice drifted into their ear presently. “You sure he's here, Gav?”

“I'm sure,” Gavin replied.

They walked along, pausing to inspect each building as they passed. They could hardly break into every single room without causing a commotion, but Gavin was mostly waiting for Andrew to use his phone, get him a better idea of which part of the area he was in.

“That's his car!” he exclaimed suddenly, catching a glimpse of the vehicle from the service station parked in another area of the lot, near the far complex of buildings.

Michael drew his gun immediately, Jack following.

“Somewhere over here on the east side, Geoff,” Jack said. They began to approach slowly. There was no movement behind the drawn curtains of the building. Gavin could hear the others talking in his ear, Dan and Ray's voices rising up in particular, but he tuned them out, focused on looking for Andrew.

They were quite close to the veranda of the bottom storey flats when a flash of movement came from the side door.

“He's making a runner!” Michael hollered, already firing after him, towards his legs – it wasn't Andrew, Gavin realised dimly as he ducked back behind Jack, it was one of the others – but suddenly there was movement on the balcony of one of the upper levels and they barely looked up in time to see one of the other men drop something down towards them.

“Grenade!” Michael yelled, frantically. He dived towards Gavin and Jack, trying to drag them out of the way-

And then the world exploded in a flash of blinding white light that made Gavin's senses scream, overloaded with brightness and terrible _sound_ , a deafening _bang_ that popped his ears and seemed to sear into his very skull. Before he knew it he was on the ground, curled up in agony. Could feel someone's body heavy on top of him – Michael, he barely registered – but it felt like the world was spinning around him. He couldn't see and he couldn't hear and he didn't know which way was up. His head hurt, hurt terribly; he felt sick like he was going to throw up.

Had he been thinking rationally he might have realised it was just a flash-bang, a stun grenade, but he was too shocked, too dazed, head reeling, and for a moment he wondered if he was actually dead.

He still could not see. In his blindness he felt the weight of Michael being lifted off him. Then strong arms were pulling him easily up, hauling him away. Being lifted only made the nausea worse; he lost all sense of direction, and he barely registered someone clamping a cloth over his nose and mouth before the sweet cloying tang of chloroform swept him away.

 


	26. Chapter 26

“All clear here,” Dan said, walking back along the road from where he'd been checking out another block of the apartment buildings.

Ray nodded, moving to meet him. They made slightly awkward eye contact before they both looked away.

There was something stiff in Dan's voice, something almost annoyed, and Ray couldn't help but feel a little unhappy about it. He'd gotten on well with Dan before – swimmingly, in fact; he'd been funny and worked in a similar area to Ray, so they'd had a lot in common – but now, it seemed, the other man was very put out by the fact that they were dating Gavin and Ray was pretty sure he'd just gone down about a hundred points in the friendship book.

Great.

He didn't quite know how to feel about that, mostly because he had no idea what was going through Dan's head. He figured Dan would of course be concerned but they hadn't had time to talk since he found out, and now the man kept fixing him with measuring looks that made Ray feel very nervous, as though he was being vetted.

He opened his mouth, to say something – he wasn't sure what – but before he could, Gavin's voice rang out in his ear.

“That's his car!”

“Somewhere over here on the east side, Geoff,” Jack added, and Dan and Ray exchanged glances.

“That way,” Ray said, pointing – they were the furthest away from the others, on the opposite side of the complex. Dan nodded and they started to head off, Ray trailing a few steps behind the other man.

God it was just very, _very awkward_ because Dan kept shooting him looks and he could practically see the other man sizing him up. Part of him wanted to just stay quiet about it, the rest was itching to comment if only so Dan would say something and he could get a sense of what he was thinking.

“So what do you want to know?” he burst out with, finally. “How many people I've killed? How big my dick is? Whether I'm gonna give Gavin the appropriate amount of cuddles after banging him?”

A scowl descended over Dan's face and Ray slightly regretted his glib tone.

“This isn't about _you_ , mate,” Dan said, rather angrily. “This is about Gav. Of course I'm a bit minged off to come back and find _this_.”

Something irritated rose up in Ray's chest; he was insecure, uncertain enough about the fragility of their new relationship without other people questioning it as well.

“What do you mean _this_?” he snipped.

Dan stopped walking, turning to him. “I mean my friend ending up in some weird fucking six-way with five people, most of whom who are well known for fucking up anyone who crosses them! Bloody hell, it's hard enough being in a relationship with one person let alone...” he trailed off with a frustrated sigh. “Surely you know this can't be fucking easy for him after what happened.”

Ray had put together most of the pieces by now but for a moment it struck him that he still didn't know the full story, exactly what went down with Andrew, and something of it must have shown on his face because Dan stopped short.

“You don't know what happened?” he asked, incredulous.

“I've worked out most of it,” Ray replied. But Dan was looking at him almost accusingly now and he quickly got defensive, the emotions were running too high between them, both of them on edge and getting too riled up. “Don't give me that fucking look. I know the gist of it but I'm waiting for _him_ to tell me, okay, I'm not gonna fucking push-”

A commotion in the earpiece.

“He's making a runner!” Michael hollered – and then seconds later, “Grenade!”

Ray's heart dropped.

The explosion that followed was deafening and he heard it twice; once in real life, a distant boom – but a second time through the earpiece, loud enough that the device popped with static and send a splitting pain through his skull. He gasped in pain, hand going to his ear.

The sound faded into a dull ringing, but it hit him then.

_Grenade._

_A grenade just exploded and Jesus fucking Christ the others-_

He exchanged a glance with Dan and saw the look of horror on his face as it dawned on him too. Wordlessly they both turned and began to sprint towards where the others had been. Ray's heart was pounding and he was focused on just _going, going, get to them-_

They rounded a corner only to skid to a halt as bullets peppered the road in front of them. Ray dived sideways, back behind a nearby wall, Dan coming up after him. For a few long moments they sheltered there, popping out only occasionally to fire back.

“Where are they?” Dan hissed.

Ray waited for a break in the firing before he poked his head out. From what he could tell there were only two men but they had a good spot with lots of cover – they were up in the windows of the farthest block of flats. A hail of gunfire came from a side street between two of the buildings and he realised it was Ryan and Geoff; they couldn't get closer either because of the men shooting from the flats.

He ducked back behind the wall and turned back to Dan.

“Two of them. Up in the house, they've got good cover. It'll be hard to take them down from here.”

Dan frowned, face determined and focused. He nudged Ray out of the way and went to take a look himself, but was forced to step back a minute later when the men started shooting again, bullets chipping the brickwork perilously close to his head.

“There's a passage through the building there,” he said, pointing across the road. “Looks like it'll take you through to behind that wall closer to the window. We'd have a better shot from there.”

Ray glanced out quickly and considered it. “We run across there we'll be hit in seconds.”

“From what you've said you're a better sharpshooter than I am,” Dan replied. “You go and I'll cover you.” A beat. “Do you trust me?”

Ray stared at him for a minute. It was one thing for him to put his life in the hands of Ryan, who had reputation to spare. It wasn't that he thought Dan would try to get him killed but that he didn't know him at all, his skills or his capabilities or how he performed under pressure.

“ _Gavin_ trusts you,” he replied finally, and nodded.

The two men were still steadily firing out the window. Ray licked his lips nervously as he waited for the right moment, eyes trained intently on the building across the street. Finally Dan nodded at him and then popped out from behind the cover, shooting up at the windows. Ray didn't stop to look if he was meeting his target; he just sprinted, as fast as he could. He heard the crack of a gunshot by his ear and nearly jumped out of his skin, but before he knew it he was on the other end of the road, panting as he ducked into the passageway, panting.

He peeked out in time to see Dan move back behind the wall. Their eyes met for a moment and Dan nodded at him. Ray nodded back and then turned away, quickly heading through the passage until he emerged on the other side of the building. There was a steep concrete embankment where the road sloped upwards towards the flats and he ducked behind it. Sure enough, from here he had better cover and an easier line of fire towards the windows.

“Fuck!” Geoff spat into the earpiece. “Can't get these assholes.”

“I'm up near you, Geoff,” Ray replied. “Got a better line from here.”

“They should be close to reloading,” Dan contribute. “Wait for it...”

Ray took a few deep breaths. Steadied himself and pushed aside his worry for the others for the moment, letting himself fall into the zone. When the gunfire from one of the windows paused for a moment he straightened up and shot; heard a shout and saw a figure fall behind the window.

Realising his partner was down, the other shooter turned towards the source of the attack. Began firing at Ray, who ducked back behind the wall – but the distraction was enough for the others to emerge and begin shooting. Ray wasn't sure which of the three of them took him down, but a moment later the sound of gunfire stopped and all fell still and silent.

His heart was racing with adrenaline and he tried to shake it off, straightening up and jogging to meet the others.

Jack, Michael and Gavin's earpieces had all gone worrying silent after the blast. Ray wasn't sure what he'd expected to find when he joined the others up in front of the building, but it certainly wasn't – nothing. Not a trace of them. No bodies, no destruction from the grenade. It was like they had vanished without a trace.

“I... I don't...”

“It was a flashbang,” Ryan cut in. There was something terribly cold and stiff to his voice. “Would've just stunned them.”

Dan walked over to something on the ground. Picked it up and held it up to show them. It was one of the others' earpieces, crushed flat.

“They took them,” Geoff said, and a cold horror hit Ray like a douse of freezing water.

_No._

_Edgar has them-_

_No._

_He can't._

“They might – they might still be nearby,” he said, something frantic in it, “They might not have got far-”

“Those guys up in the house held us up enough that they're probably plenty far by now,” Ryan growled. There was still something detached in his voice but when Ray looked over at him he realised he was stiff as a board, holding himself tense to avoid shaking, and _oh God_ , he realised, that terrible fear only growing in him, _Edgar has them, Edgar's men took them-_

“Fuck!” Geoff yelled, and whirled around, kicking viciously at the wall of the nearest building. “Fuck, fuck, _fuck_ -”

Dan threw the earpiece to the ground and reached up, gripping his hair in his hands.

“How the hell did we let this happen?” he cried. “We should never have fucking split up-”

“If we hadn't split up we'd all be kidnapped,” Ryan cut in. “The police will be here soon. I don't doubt the residents of these buildings have already called them. We need to leave. There's nothing we can do from here.”

There was still something too artificially controlled in Ryan's voice, but for now the logic of his words penetrated the haze of fear and confusion in Ray's mind. Was comforting in its practicality. _We need to get out. Then we can find the others._

“Fucking asshole probably _wanted_ us to find him,” Geoff spat. He lifted his gun and fired at the wall; all of them stiffened at the sudden noise. Geoff spun around then and Ray froze at the look on his face. Angry, so angry, but under that _terrified_ because-

Because Edgar had left them his terrible warning-

Because they'd barely gotten Gavin out of Edgar's clutches last time and that had been at the start, one person, before Edgar knew just how close they all were-

Because Ryan's old team hung over them, a myriad of terrible ghosts and-

Geoff was scared. Geoff was _scared_ and now Ray was too; Dan looked furious if only to cover his own fear and Ryan...

Ryan stepped forward and grabbed Geoff's wrist, heedless of the gun he was still waving around. Forced his arm back down to his side and yanked him to face him.

“Geoff,” he snapped, and there was no care in his voice or concern, just that deliberate detachment. That worried Ray more than anything, that this predicament had kicked Ryan back into mad mercenary mode.

“Geoff,” he repeated, and shook his arm roughly. “We need to leave _now_.”

 

* * *

 

  
It felt like it took them forever to get back to the house. With every second that passed Ray could only think of what might be happening to the others. Knew that logically there had not been time for anything yet, that if they were being transported somewhere – to Edgar's hideout or otherwise – they were likely still en route.

But there would be time. Oh God there would be time, because even now he hadn't the first clue of how to even _begin_ to track them down and-

And he wasn't panicking, not yet. He knew how to keep his cool, or how not to show it when he wasn't, at least. But he couldn't stop thinking about it.

They had Gavin, oh God they had Gavin again. He was back with Andrew and they'd told him they'd protect him, they’d promised, but now he was helpless with two of the people he feared most in the world, and even if he wasn't alone the other two had been captured too, could do nothing to defend him if need be.

They had Jack and he was probably in the most danger of all of them; Edgar didn't know about the relationship yet but in any case it was a given that Jack was the fastest route to hurting Geoff. The trump card, the weak spot, and Ray felt sick as he recalled that in Edgar's little attempt at modern art, the figure representing Jack had been speared through the heart. _God no, God no, fuck fuck fuck no-_

They had Michael.

They had Michael and it was Ray's worst fears all over again from when they started the relationship only the two of them. It was easier out in the field, the danger, because they both knew what they were doing and the adrenaline was pumping and usually he had eyes or ears on the other man anyway.

But this – knowing he was captured, being helpless to do fuck all about it, the waiting game – all he could do was dwell and dwell on the thought of Michael hurt, Michael injured, Michael tortured and he felt sicker and sicker until by the time they arrived at the house he wanted to either punch something or spew.

Everyone else looked no better.

Geoff was still shaking with rage, and Ray had seen him angry before but usually it was a restrained anger, a controlled anger, usually directed at something as a means of asserting his dominance. But this was wild and unbridled and _emotional_ , and the first thing he did was make a beeline for the kitchen and grab a bottle of whisky.

Ray hovered in the middle of the living room and found he did not know what to do with himself; Ryan was pacing, a nasty pent up energy to his movements. Too much power in his strides as he walked up and down the carpet, fists clenched by his sides.

“What's the plan?” Dan demanded.

Ray glanced over at him; he still looked angry, stressed out, but there was an odd subservience in his voice too as he looked over at Geoff, emerging from the kitchen.

 _Waiting for orders,_ Ray realised – Dan may not know Geoff well yet but he sure had heard about him and it seemed now in this trying time he was deferring to his authority.

“We find them,” Geoff said tersely. “I'll call in anyone I have to. Burnie's contacts – anyone.”

“It'll take too long,” Ryan cut in. “We need to get started on locating them right away.”

Geoff rounded on him and Ray flinched a bit, half expecting a fight – but Geoff didn't look angry with Ryan. Just exasperated at the whole situation they were in, and while Ray couldn't see Ryan's face under the mask he didn't rise up to meet Geoff's challenge, just stood and listened carefully. Ray relaxed a little, glad they weren't letting the stress of this get between them.

“Last I checked,” Geoff said, “We needed Gavin to track anyone down.”

Ryan shook his head. “Are you forgetting that I've worked alone the last few years, and a significant portion of my job consists of hunting down bounties and hits? Gavin's already gathered so much data on Edgar's safe houses – that would have been the hard part. I can at least try.”

Dan raised a hand. “I've watched Gav do this before and he's talked about it a lot to me. I know the general gist of some of it.”

The relief of having a plan made Ray's shoulders slump; Geoff nodded fiercely, taking a swig from the bottle.

“Alright. Fucking go do that then.”

The two of them headed out toward the garage and left Ray and Geoff standing in a frozen silence. Ray felt he ought to say something but wasn't quite sure what. His stomach was still churning and Geoff was stood there drinking and Ray wanted to help him somehow, to reassure him. But any platitudes he could utter – _we'll find them, they'll be okay –_ were empty as fuck because he didn't know that, they didn't know that, all he knew was that Edgar had burned four men as a warning and part of him, part of him ached for _Geoff_ to reach out and comfort him.

“Don't... don't get drunk,” he managed finally. Wasn't quite sure where it slipped out from.

Geoff glanced up at him and after a second his face softened into something tireder.

“I won't,” he replied, and put the bottle down on the counter.

Ray relaxed a bit. Geoff still hadn't made any move to come towards him and suddenly he felt oddly shy to make the first move himself. It was stupid because it was _Geoff_ , they were together, he wouldn't have hesitated if it was Michael – but something held him back, some worry that his comfort wouldn't be enough.

Geoff reached up after a minute. Rubbed his hands over his face with a groan.

“God, Ray,” he said. “This is fucked up. This is, like, worst case scenario and it's fucking happened.”

“I mean, it could be _worse_ ,” Ray pointed out, a hollow attempt to make the best of things. “We could _all_ have been captured.”

“At least then we wouldn't be separated,” Geoff replied, then shook his head. “No, you're right – at least we're free, at least we can go after them.” A frown. “Or we can until Edgar contacts us.”

Ray frowned. “If he wanted them dead his people would've killed them then and there.”

“He's baiting me,” Geoff said, and his face shuttered over again. “Hurt the others to hurt me. Ryan too.”

“We'll find them.” It came out more easily now, and a fierce resolve filled him at saying the words out loud. “He's shown his hand now. He must have fuck all left so he's trying to split us up. Get morale down then separate us to make the group weak.”

Geoff nodded. His hands dropped from his face and while he looked determined now, there was still fear in his eyes when he locked gazes with Ray – a fear Ray knew was mirrored in his own face, and Geoff stepped towards him then, finally.

Ray was not generally the most tactile of people but when Geoff put his arms around him he practically melted into the touch. Leaned forward and rested his head against Geoff's shoulder and _okay, okay_ , they were both scared and terribly worried but Geoff was still here, Ryan was still here; Dan was on their side. He wasn't alone and they _would_ find the others, they _had to_.

Geoff pull back then. Pressed a light kiss to Ray's lips, his cheeks, his forehead, his hands on Ray's hips tight as though afraid of losing him too.

Ray forced a smile; the panic had receded a little and he realised _this is it, this is our strength, us together_ because everything seemed easier with Geoff there, not as a leader or boss or even just a friend, but as one of his partners.

Geoff smiled back. Still stressed but calmer now, the anger replaced in some part with resolve.

“I should go check on the others,” Ray whispered, a pang of concern for Ryan hitting him, and Geoff nodded, his hands slipping gently from Ray's waist.

“Okay,” he replied. “And I have a phone call to make.”

 

* * *

  
Ray was not sure what he'd expected to find when he went down to the garage. Ryan and Dan hadn't talked alone – had barely talked at all – since meeting each other. He supposed he'd thought they'd be working intently, perhaps ignoring each other as much as possible. Either that or they'd've bonded over their concern for Gavin and would be working together enthusiastically.

But no. He walked in on them in what appeared to be the middle of some sort of standoff; Dan was standing, arms folded and shoulders very stiff, while Ryan remained seated, staring up at Dan impassively, but there was something very menacing about his mask, its cold blank stare.

“Fucking shooting me down at every turn,” Dan was saying as Ray entered the room. “Do you want to find them or not?!”

“Of course I want to find them,” Ryan replied frostily.

“Yeah, well it damn well doesn't seem like it.”

That, it seemed, was the snapping point; Ray didn't know how long this had been going on for but he _saw_ the moment the accusation hit Ryan exactly where it hurt the most. He rose from the chair in a single fluid motion and stepped towards Dan. They were about the same height but there was something imposing about Ryan's menace that seemed to fill the room; something darker came over him and for the first time in a very, very long time Ray almost felt scared of him.

“You think I don't care,” Ryan said, and there was something terrible about how low his voice was, how quiet, as though if he let himself get any louder he would just – snap, would unleash something on them that he couldn't take back. “You think I don't _fucking_ care – you think I am not completely fucking desperate to get them back, that it's not killing me every _second_ we sit here while God knows what is happening to them?”

Dan stood his ground, lips pressed tightly together.

“I don't know what to think about you,” he replied, “All I know is what I've heard and from what I've heard, no, you wouldn't seem to-”

“ _Fuck you._ ” Then came the volume, a roar loud enough that Ray and Dan both jumped. “I care, I fucking care, everyone wants me to fucking say it, don't they? I'm not – you think I'm not _terrified_ of what they-”

His voice cracked and that's when Ray realised something was wrong, something was very wrong, this wasn't just an argument, because Ryan was so tense he was shaking and his fists were clenched by his sides, one of them perilously close to the gun at his waist. He stepped forward from where he'd been hovering in the doorway and walked over to them, moving over to Ryan and taking him by the arm.

“Ryan,” he said, keeping his voice quiet but firm. Ryan barely responded to the touch, still staring down Dan, who looked suddenly awkward as he obviously realised that he'd struck a nerve without realising it – not to mention startled by this display of emotion from the usually stoic mad mercenary.

“Ryan,” Ray said again. “Time out, okay, come on.”

He tugged and was surprised – and relieved – when Ryan let himself be led out of the room. They moved into the corridor, Ray pulling the garage door shut behind him. He let go of Ryan's arm and turned to face him; Ryan stood stiffly, his gaze fixed on the wall behind Ray rather than his face. His chest was heaving as he took great breaths, huffing them out angrily through his nose before sucking them in again almost violently.

“Ryan?” Ray began cautiously.

The man had been so controlled when they realised the others were missing, when they got back to the house. But now he was falling apart the way he had back at the Corpirate's mansion-

The way he had the other night, when Ray followed him outside and found him standing on the veranda rhythmically stabbing his knife into the wood of the porch rail, narrowly missing chopping his own fingers off each time. When he'd tossed Ray the bag and it hadn't taken him long to realise what was inside, felt his stomach drop because this was a blast from the past that they didn't need, not when it was still a raw nerve for Ryan as he opened himself up to trust again, not when they were so close to Edgar and so close to danger themselves.

“I am _afraid_ ,” Ryan had admitted then, letting it slip from his mouth gingerly, as though it was a dirty word. “Of losing you too, all of you. Seeing this again, it... I'd forgotten them, a bit. The way you forget anything once it's gone. You try not to but it's inevitable. But this,” he gestured at the bag, “Brings it back.”

A tiny, bitter smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “I was... terribly fond of them.”

Ray hadn't known what to say, had just moved closer, put his hand over Ryan's, holding it still, the knife working its way into the wood again before stopping.

“I have even more to lose now,” Ryan had said.

“You're not gonna lose anything,” Ray told him - “You're _not_ , look at us, we have you, we have Geoff, we have Gav. We've damn near taken down Edgar already and we couldn't have done it without you. We'll get out of this okay. He's not taking us away from you that easily.”

He was never the best with words but those had seemed to do the trick, at least back then, but now the worst had happened, the worst, the _worst_ , everything that Ryan was most afraid of, and as Ray looked at him now he could tell that that had hit _hard_. That maybe Ryan had tried to ignore it at first, to revert back to his old tactics of putting the mask on and building up his walls and acting like nothing could hurt him past his shields – but he was too far gone for that; couldn't fumble all his armour back up again after letting it down to them, and it seemed it was all just too much.

“Ryan,” Ray said again, and when the other still didn't respond, he reached forward to try and take Ryan's mask off himself.

Ryan reached out and grabbed his wrist, grip tight enough to hurt a little. Ray ignored it, didn't pull his hand back.

“Don't,” Ryan choked out.

“Please let me help,” Ray said – and there was something equally desperate in his own voice, because it _hurt_ to see Ryan like this and not be able to do anything about it. “You don't need to hide from me. Last time... last time you were alone. But you're not alone now. You don't have to do this by yourself.”

For a moment the corridor was silent but for Ryan's harsh breaths. But then, slowly, he loosened his grip on Ray's wrist. Let his hand slip away and fall back to his side. Ray reached forward, fingers fumbling, and pulled the mask off over his head.

He sucked his breath in.

Ryan looked wrecked, face pale and so drawn he looked as though he was ill. His eyes were red rimmed and to Ray's horror shone with tears; it was a vulnerability he had never wanted to see from the other man. He'd expected this to hit him hard, to upset him, but Ryan looked on the verge of breaking here and part of Ray wanted to just – hold him, pull him close and not let go as though that would somehow make everything _better_.

But it wouldn't, and they felt too exposed in the corridor. Swallowing the lump that had suddenly appeared in his throat, he grabbed Ryan's hand and pulled him to the bedroom.

The house felt too quiet without the others in it, an absence he couldn't get used to. He tugged Ryan to the bed and sat him down. Moved to close the door. When he turned back to the bed to sit down next to him, he found Ryan staring transfixed at the wall. Followed his gaze to find he was looking at himself in a mirror hanging above the dresser.

Ray gently lowered himself onto the bed beside him, but Ryan didn't turn to look at him. He just reached up slowly and swiped at his eyes, thumbing away the tears in his eyes before rubbing at them as though they burned. Then, after a minute, he started laughing. Low chuckles at first that built up into something broken and hysterical. Little choking snickers that sounded far too much like sobs for Ray's taste.

_Oh God, what do I do?_

He felt painfully awkward because he – he wasn't good at this. With talking or thinking of the right things to say, not like Jack was. When Gavin freaked out on them, all he'd done was follow Michael's lead. He wanted Michael here now, suddenly, a terrible longing ache.

As it was, he reached out and gently rubbed Ryan's back, hating how helpless he felt. For a few long moments they just sat. Eventually Ryan stopped laughing and slumped forward, head in his hands. Ray shifted over, closer to him, pulling his arm tight around his shoulders.

“I'm still here,” he murmured after a little while. “Geoff's still here.”

“He has the others,” Ryan replied, something raw and tired to his voice. Something defeated. “He'll kill them the way he killed my old team.”

“Where's your fight?” Ray demanded. Felt Ryan stiffen a little, knew he was being a bit unfair, that things had piled up and up, enough to crush any man. “Look, Michael's a tough son of a bitch. He doesn't die easily. Jack's the boyfriend of the most wanted man in the city. He's been in danger a hundred times over and come out just fine. And Gav... he's stronger than he looks.”

Ryan was silent, but Ray could see him listening intently. He swallowed.

“We _will_ get them back. We'll at least try, _together_. And I know... I know this is hard, I know it reminds you of last time, but it's not the same, okay? It's not the same. _You're not alone any more_.”

Ryan didn't reply, but he leaned into Ray's arm a little more, and Ray didn't miss the significance of that, that he was letting himself be held. Be comforted. And perhaps he did not need any more words, not right now. The silence now was less tense and gradually he felt the stiffness leach a little from Ryan's shoulders, his breathing slowing a little. When he finally looked up his eyes were red rimmed and very tired but he forced something like a smile, and Ray smiled back, glad he had at least managed to calm him down. Because there was still fear there – in himself, too – and anger, and desperation, but he was in control now, at least.

“Alright?” he asked, and Ryan nodded.

“Fine. Thank you,” he added, a little stiffly, but Ray waved it off. They were both as awkward as each other with this.

“It's cool,” he said. “We should get back, though. Dan's probably wondering what we're doing.”

Ryan nodded. Ray offered him his mask back and he looked down at it impassively for a moment, before reaching out and clasping Ray's cheeks instead, pulling him in for a kiss. Ray let out a little startled noise – hadn't expected him to want to do that, not here and now – but kissed back, letting his hands fall easily to Ryan's waist.

Ryan pulled back and his lips quirked up into a far more genuine smile.

“I'm glad you're here,” he said, oddly sincere, and Ray grinned back.

“Fuck yeah you are. I'm awesome.”

Ryan's laugh this time was lighter, genuinely amused, and Ray couldn't even bring himself to mind when he pulled the mask back on.

Dan was working at the computer when they re-entered the room. He turned immediately, something like guilt passing across his face. It was obvious he realised he'd upset Ryan, deeply – something he probably had not thought himself capable of. Ray appreciated that, that despite whatever prior conceptions he may have had about the man, he was letting go of them for now, was giving him a chance.

As it was, Ryan walked up to him and held out a hand. Ray was a little startled; Ryan was friendly with them but even then it had taken ages for him to open up. He tended to remain aloof from anyone else, Ray had noticed – Geoff's crew, anyone they came across. He supposed it might be because Dan was so close to Gavin, that he was making more of an effort.

“Sorry about before,” Ryan said, and Ray was surprised to find that he sounded sincere rather than just polite. “You're right, I did get... agitated, I was shooting down your ideas and I shouldn't have.”

“No harm done,” Dan replied, hesitantly clasping his hand. They shook briefly before Ryan pulled back and clapped his hands together.

“Right. Back into it, then.”

Ray settled back in a chair to watch them; he had no idea what they were doing and could only hope it was working. The tension between them had dissipated now and they seemed a lot more productive, talking between themselves quietly as they typed away.

Presently there arose a lull in the conversation as they waited for something to load, and Ray noticed Ryan casting glances at Dan every few seconds.

“When I met Gavin,” Ryan spoke up abruptly – Dan turned to look at him, eyebrows rising – “He wasn't scared of me and I asked him why. He said I reminded him of a friend of his. Of you.”

Dan scoffed out a laugh. “Christ. Okay. Either he warmed up to you _very_ quickly or this whole time he's imagined me a lot more badass than I actually am.”

Ryan gave a low chuckle. “Quite. Anyway, I – you don't need to worry. About me and him.”

Dan was silent a long moment and Ray saw Ryan begin to gently drum his fingers against the desk before him, a nearly unnoticeable nervous twitch.

Finally Dan let out a huff of breath.

“I don't think I do,” he replied, and Ryan stared at him a moment before nodding. Dan nodded back and with that they turned back to the screen, exchange over.

Ray couldn't help but relax a little; he'd been growing concerned given how Dan had nearly blown up at him before, but it seemed he was coming around, at least a bit – probably after having seen just how frantic they all were with the others missing.

It took a little time more before the others finally struck upon something; Ray called Geoff in and they hunched around the screen as he pulled up a map.

“Looks like they stopped here,” Ryan said with a frown. “It's not Edgar's main hideout.”

“They must be planning to move them again,” Geoff said grimly.

The building was a hardware distribution centre in the outskirts of town – or had been, anyway; from the information they had pulled up on it, it looked like it was now being used by Edgar as a front for cooking meth. A finger in every pie indeed.

“It's too far out,” Ray said. “There's no way we'll get there before they move them. That's what they must be counting on.”

“There's no way we'll get there by _road_ ,” Geoff spoke up, and a slow grin spread across his face. “Luckily I've made a couple of calls.”

 

* * *

  
It was not hard for Ray to push down his nervousness as they approached the building; he was well practiced in setting aside everything except his determination and drive to do his job. The stakes might be higher now but worried about letting emotion get the better of him, he set it aside, tried to think of this as just another job, albeit a very, very important one.

The others were doing the same, he could tell – Ryan back to being blank and impassive, Geoff's face set in a hard grimace, Dan with the same staunch detachment Ray himself was trying to maintain.

“There it is,” Geoff said. He was shouting but even with his voice coming in through Ray's earpiece, he was hard pressed to hear him over the defining whir of chopper blades.

The building swam into view below them and Kdin, piloting, brought it to a hover.

“That roof's not gonna hold under this helicopter,” he said, and Geoff nodded.

“You're right. Let down the ladder, we'll still go in by the roof – take them by surprise – but it looks like there's space for you to land outside, pick us up once we're done.”

“Roger that.” Kdin pulled down lower and Ray moved to unbuckle his seatbelt, hand going to the gun at his belt.

Geoff stood up, steadying himself against the slight turbulence as they descended. “Everyone ready?” he shouted, glancing around at them all.

They nodded, determined – Ray sucked in a breath and let it out slowly. Climbing out of a moving chopper was something he'd done before, that wasn't what was terrifying him, but the thought that they might be too late – that they might fail – he shook it off, letting himself slip back into professionalism.

Geoff was here. Geoff was leading them, and Ray trusted him. Trusted Ryan to back them up, with his hundred percent success rate. Everything was in place for things to go smoothly.

“Ready,” he called back, and Geoff grinned then, wide and fierce and determined.

“Great,” he said then, and swung down out the door of the chopper, his voice drifting back up towards them as he called, “Let's do this shit then!”

 

* * *

  
Jack opened his eyes slowly.

His head was pounding, a rhythmic pulsing ache behind his eyes. His mouth felt sticky, a faint nausea brewing in the pit of his stomach.

 _Drugged_ , he thought hazily, recognising the signs – _chloroformed._ It came back to him; they'd been looking for Andrew and then... something, some great flash that knocked him right out.

His head clearing, he tried to move only to be pulled up short. Realised he was zip-tied to a chair, arms bound to the arm rests and ankles to the chair legs, so tightly that the plastic was cutting into his skin a little.

Turning his head, he froze. There was a chair either side of him and on each was bound one of the others. Michael to his right, Gavin his left. Michael was blinking hazily, getting his bearings, seemingly having just regained consciousness as well, but Gavin's head was slumped forward onto his chest, out like a light. Neither of them appeared visibly injured and something tight in his stomach relaxed a little at that. _Okay. We're reasonably okay, at least physically_.

“Oh, fuck,” he heard Michael groan beside him, and turned his head towards him.

“Michael? You okay?”

It took a second for Michael's eyes to focus on his. They widened as he seemed to comprehend where he was and what had happened.

“Shit, Jack – they got you too?”

“And Gav,” Jack replied, glancing to his other side.

“God fucking _damn it_ .” Michael began to struggle against his restraints, but to no avail; they were bound down tightly and with their legs tied as well they couldn't get any leverage to even tip the chairs over. “Fuck, fuck, _fuck_ , this is bad, this is fucking bad-”

“You're telling me.” Fear was rising up in his stomach now because _Edgar has us, Edgar's men have us_. It was very, very bad, but Jack had been in these situations before – perhaps not with as formidable a foe as Edgar – but he knew that the last thing any of them needed to do was panic. That staying calm and looking for a way out, dealing with the situation logically, would give them their best chance.

“Michael,” he said – he could hear the agitation rising up in the other's voice, even if he was covering it with anger rather than reveal his fear. “Michael, calm down, okay.”

“We fucking got got by Edgar, this is like, the epitome of reasons not to be calm-”

“ _Calm down_.” His voice was stern but caring and he leaned forward as much as he could in the chair, locking his gaze on Michael's. Their eyes met and he could see the agitation in them, edging perilously close to hysteria. “I mean it, okay? We'll get out of this.”

“Or, you know, he'll set us all on fire and string us up by the ankles,” Michael snapped, but he had stopped tugging at his wrists in little furious jerks, seeming to realise it wasn't getting him anywhere.

“Michael, look at me.” Jack waited until he complied, held his gaze for a long moment until he saw Michael's breathing slow a little, grow calmer. “Freaking out, getting agitated, that's the last thing we need right now. That's not helpful. And when Gavin wakes up if he sees you getting panicked _he will get panicked too_. We don't want that. Okay?”

It was mean to guilt Michael into calming down, he knew, but it was a dire situation so he exploited the other man's protective instincts out of necessity. Sure enough that seemed to snap some sense into Michael; he nodded, lips thinning in concern as he leaned forward to try and look past Jack to the other chair.

“Gav? He alright?”

“Still looks pretty out of it,” Jack replied – glancing over at the other man. He frowned a little, concerned because usually it didn't take long to wake up from chloroform once it had been removed from your face. Then again, Gavin had less body weight; a strong dose would hit him harder and he had already been exhausted besides.

He turned back to Michael. “Do you know where we are?”

“A room,” Michael replied, very helpfully. “No, Jack, I haven't got a fucking clue.”

A response that was fair enough; the room itself was very nondescript. Dim fluorescent lighting, concrete walls. It was fairly large, from what Jack could tell when he twisted his neck around, but the chairs they were sitting on were facing a bare, grimy wall. Around them he could see shelves, stacked with crates of some sort.

There was a loud bang from somewhere outside; it made both of them jump and glance at each other fearfully but when a few moments passed and nothing happened they relaxed, realising it seemed to have just been an outside noise.

The sudden sound had Gavin stirring, though, a light groan coming from Jack's left before he turned his head.

“Gavin,” he called softly. “Gav, wake up. Don't freak out, okay, it's okay.”

Gavin's eyes blearily focused on his, and Jack saw the moment he properly came back. Realised where they were and what had happened. His eyes snapped wide open and he tried to move only to come up short against his restraints.

“Oh God,” he croaked out, and Jack could already see his chest starting to heave and moved to nip this in the bud before it could get any worse.

“Gavin!” He used that same firm tone of voice he'd commanded Michael with before; saw Gavin's eyes dart to his. “Shh, okay, just listen to me. Are we in big fucking trouble? Yes. But Michael and I are here. You're not alone, okay, we're here and the others are coming. The others are _coming_. Okay? Deep breaths, sweetheart.”

Gavin made a conscious effort to slow his breathing; Jack could see his fingers drumming rhythmically against the chair's arm rest as he counted. It seemed Jack's words had gotten through to him thankfully fast. He might be scared but he knew he wasn't about to be abandoned, so the terror that usually overtook him faded as quickly as it arrived.

“This is not great,” he managed finally.

“Thank you for that insightful contribution,” Michael spoke up, and Gavin craned his neck to look at him. Jack saw Michael grin. “You alright, boi?”

“Top, Michael, just tied to a chair and probably about to be mauled by a cow,” Gavin replied. His voice shook a little but Jack was glad he was at least joking about it.

“Let's see if we can't get ourselves out of this,” Jack said.

It became very quickly apparent that no, they could not get themselves out of this.

They couldn't escape the zip ties and they couldn't knock over the chairs – there was nothing around them to cut the ties with anyway. For a little while they sat tugging, trying to worm free, but to no avail. Zip ties, even the heavy duty ones, were easy enough to break if you were practiced at it (which Jack definitely was, as a precaution) – but they'd been bound at the elbows as well as the wrists to the strong wooden chair such that none of them could get enough force behind their movements to break the ties, and even Gavin, the slightest, couldn't slip out of them.

Presently they all realised it was hopeless and slipped into a distressed silence. Jack wondered how long they'd been down here; his watch was missing.

“It's useless,” Gavin said then. “We're not going to escape.”

He sounded upset enough that Jack's head jerked around to him in concern.

“Hey,” he said. “Hey – maybe we can't escape but the others are definitely coming. They won't let us down. I trust Geoff and Ryan to be able to find us.”

“What, not Ray?” Michael asked, jokingly.

Jack raised and lowered a shoulder. “Ray and Dan are the muscle.”

“Fucking dream team,” Michael said.

Gavin smiled a bit, but it faded very quickly. He was biting his lip.

“He's going to come in here,” he said quietly. “Soon they'll realise we're awake and he's gonna come in here.”

“Andrew or Edgar?” Jack asked, and Gavin just shook his head.

“Either. Both. Either way it's... I...”

“There's nothing they can say or do that takes away from the fact that you got away from them, that you're getting over them. Just remember that, alright, Gav?” Jack asked, and Gavin nodded. His lips pressed together in something like determination and after a second he nodded again, more fiercely this time.

“Also remember,” Michael added, “That I am going to kill Andrew and then take a shit on his corpse.”

“ _Michael_ ,” Gavin gasped, and Jack let out a long, unimpressed groan as Michael began to snicker wickedly.

“You won't,” Gavin insisted, and Michael continued to laugh.

“Oh, I will, just you watch me.”

“No, that's gross, Michael, you _can't.”_

“I can and I will; I don't fucking care if it's gross. _He's_ gross. I'll do it for you, Gav, it'll be the turd of my affections.”

Gavin was laughing now, softly, and Jack and Michael exchanged a smile.

“If you did Geoff absolutely would too,” Jack said, “The man hates to be one-upped in the 'who has the least sense of shame' department.”

“Or the 'taking gruesome disgusting revenge' department, I imagine,” Gavin added. “Which Dan does too, but I don't think he'd go so far as to chuck bricks on a dead body.”

Almost immediately the mention of Dan had them all freezing up awkwardly as they remembered their last interaction with the man. Gavin looked away and Jack exchanged a glance with Michael before turning to him.

“He just cares about you, you know,” Jack said quietly. Geoff had told him of Dan's less than stellar reaction to the news of their relationship. “That's why he's so worried.”

Gavin shook his head. “That's not... not why I'm uneasy about it. Dan'll come around, I know. He just needs to take it in first.”

“What is it then?” Jack asked.

For a long moment he thought Gavin was not going to answer, would ignore the question the way he tried to ignore everything he didn't want to talk about.

But eventually he let out a heavy breath, and began to speak, the words coming out quickly and nervously.

“Acknowledging _this_ is hard for me. I... I told you two, once, I don't really do the whole relationship thing. And I want this – I _really_ want this to work out but having to tell Dan about this, that makes it official.”

“What do you mean official?” Jack asked. A sudden suspicion struck him. And it was ludicrous but then again Gavin could be a little thick at times - “Wait, Gavin, you do know that we're all together, right? That we are all actually in a relationship that you agreed to join? This isn't... we're _together_ , we're not still all dancing around it.”

“I _know that,_ you dope,” Gavin snapped, “I'm not stupid. But it's not, like... it's early stages still, I don't know, we haven't sat down and talked about it and all. Or at least not with me.”

“You want us to talk about it,” Jack began, and Gavin shook his head again, growing steadily more frustrated.

“No! That's the _opposite_ of what I want, I just... I liked it when we were taking it slow and we were just. Feeling things out, seeing how they went, but now Dan's here and it's like we... we have to put a label to it and explain it to him and... and that's _hard_ when we barely know what we're doing ourselves, you know, that... that puts pressure on it?”

“I getcha, Gav,” Michael said quietly.

Jack nodded, seeing where Gavin's hesitance had come from now.

It was scary for all of them. He and Geoff probably came across as a little more comfortable, a little more settled purely because the two of them had been together far longer than any of the others. But it was true, having to justify the relationship to someone else made it seem suddenly terrifyingly solid. They were all committed, sure, they all wanted it to work, but it was such early days that they didn't really want to be telling people about it yet, so Dan's timing was a little unfortunate in that respect- and particular bad for Gavin, the flightiest apart from maybe Ryan but the one who knew Dan the best, to whom he would have to prove his certainty in what he was doing.

“Okay,” he said quietly. “Yeah, I get that. But Gavin... you don't need to worry about it, alright? No matter what you tell Dan we're still going to take this slowly, as slow as you need us to. And, you know, we _all_ want to just take our time and work this out. Believe it or not I'm pretty nervous about it too.”

“You are?” Gavin asked, and Jack nodded.

“Of course. I'm worried about messing things up with Ryan, or not balancing it all correctly, or trying to work out how to juggle all this. But, you know, we'll get through it because _we all want this_. And as long as you still want this we'll do whatever we need to to make sure you're comfortable with it.”

“Ray's in pretty much the same boat as you,” Michael added. “He didn't do relationships much before this either. So you're not the only one, okay, Gav?” He started humming _We're All In This Together_ again and both of them groaned loudly, shushing him until they dissolved into laughter.

“Okay,” Gavin said – once again, it seemed, he'd been building things up in his head, blowing them out of proportion, when it turned out that all he'd needed was some reassurance from the others in order to sort it all out.

Another noise from outside followed by footsteps had them all stiffening as they abruptly recalled exactly how dire their situation was.

“Someone's coming,” Jack hissed. He glanced between them to find them both looking at the door with wide eyes; Michael had a sneer fixed to his face but Jack could tell it was forced. Gavin looked exactly as terrified as he probably felt and Jack could see him struggling to hide it and not succeeding very well.

“Game face on,” Michael muttered, but Jack didn't have time to answer before the door to the left of them slammed open and Andrew strode in, coming up to stand before the three of them.

“Look who's awake,” he crowed, and immediately walked over to Gavin, reaching out to rest a hand on his shoulder. Jack grit his teeth at the sight of him touching the other man, especially when he noticed how stiff Gavin went. “Hey, Gavin. Fancy running into you again.”

Gavin stared at him for a moment. And then seemed to decide that an appropriate response would be to twist his neck around and _bite_ the hand on his shoulder; his teeth clamping down hard around Andrew's flesh. The man howled, whipping his hand back. Michael started sniggering and Jack couldn't help but grin a bit too.

“Jesus fucking christ,” Andrew spat, shaking his hand. His gaze had hardened and he strode back over, reaching out to grab Gavin by the throat. Jack and Michael both fell silent, stiffening, but he wasn't holding hard enough to choke and while Jack could see Gavin's chest heaving – breathing too fast – he was still glaring defiantly. _Get angry_ , Jack remembered Michael saying.

“Bad fucking idea, Free,” Andrew said, the rage in his tone fading towards contempt. “Antagonise the guy who's got you helpless. You always were an idiot when it came to everything other than computers.”

“And you're an idiot if you think working for Edgar's a good idea,” Gavin shot back, voice a little strained. “You're in way over your head if you think this is a good gig.”

“I know he's paying me a fuckload of money,” Andrew replied breezily. He let Gavin go and he slumped back with a cough as Andrew dusted his hands off. “And the promise of a high ranking position when he finally takes over Ramsey's empire.”

Jack scoffed at him. “You seriously think that's gonna happen? Edgar's _losing_ , badly. That's why he's resorted to employing _you_.”

“I think,” Andrew said, “That you're all tied to chairs and at my mercy.” A nasty smirk. “Pity you didn't surrender when you had the chance, eh?”

Even this brief interaction had Jack sizing up the man and he didn't like what he found. Not cruel so much as uncaring, shamelessly arrogant and obviously in it for the money and power more than anything else. Just a dickhead who cared about himself above anyone else. Jack could easily see him abandoning Gavin to save his own skin, and the memory of it had hot anger rising up in his gut again.

“You're up against Geoff Ramsey _and_ the mad mercenary,” he said. “Not to mention your old friend Dan Gruchy. They're coming for us and they're not gonna be happy when they get here, especially after what you did to Gav.”

“Aw, that's sweet,” Andrew mocked, turning to Gavin. “Boyfriend came back for you? Or are you Ramsey's fucktoy now?”

“Geoff takes care of his fucking own, unlike _you_ you self-centered cocksucking shitloaf,” Michael spat; Jack glanced across to see him scowling furiously. Andrew was pushing his buttons, it seemed, and he was straining against his restraints again.

“Settle down, curls,” Andrew replied. “Sure, Ramsey's coming, but he won't get here in time. One of Edgar's men will be here very soon to pick you up.” A grin. “Then you can meet the man himself.”

Despite the threat, Jack couldn't help feeling a rush of relief. _Edgar's not actually here. He's going to take us to him. That buys us some time, at least_. He saw Gavin slump over a little next to him, obviously realising the same thing.

 _One of Edgar's men... the pig_ , Jack thought then – if Andrew wasn't taking them himself, had had to stash them here until the pig could arrive, then he'd inadvertently just given away that he himself didn't know where Edgar's main hideout was.

“Anyway,” Andrew said, and stretched, popping each knuckle on his fingers. “It's nice to see you again, Gavin. And by nice I mean I'll be fucking glad to see Edgar kill you, since you somehow managed to worm your way out of Barry's grasp. Do you know how much money I lost on that damn operation? All because you fucked up and didn't realise Jed was working with him. That's part of why I left you behind, you know, you're a fucking liability. Useless even at what you were meant to do. Surprised Ramsey hasn't realised it already, I know he's a smart man.”

Jack's blood was boiling but he knew better than to rise to the taunt.

Michael, it seemed, didn't.

“Are you here to say anything useful or just to rub it in that you got a lucky shot in with a flash grenade?” he demanded.

Andrew walked over to him and grabbed his face in his hand. “He's got a mouth on him, doesn't he?”

“I mean it,” Michael added, a mocking smirk spreading across his lips. “You think Gavin's useless; he's literally the only reason Edgar hired your worthless ass. What are you, nothing but a conceited little tosser who thinks he's so scary.”

Andrew scowled at him. Tightened his grip on his jaw until Michael grimaced a bit.

“And what are _you_?” he shot back. “Nothing but a hired gun.”

“I'm someone with an employable skill, fuckface. Your only marketable talent seems to be douchebaggery. Go sit back at the kiddie table why don't you.”

 _Michael, what are you playing at,_ Jack thought nervously. He was winding up Andrew very obviously, the other man starting to grow genuinely annoyed, and all Jack could think was _shut up, shut up, don't make things worse_ , but Michael seemed determined to continue to taunt.

“Edgar can give you all the positions in the world but you'll still be sitting in a nappy at the end of it; you're nothing without hired muscle behind you-” he broke off with a grunt as Andrew punched him across the face, snapping his head sideways.

“Looks like you're just as stupid as Free,” Andrew snapped. “I'm not the one who isn't in control here.”

“Maybe,” Michael said, still grinning, “But I'm telling you right now that you punch worse than _Gavin_ , and that's saying something.”

Andrew hit him again – and again, raining blows down across his face, on his chest, stomach until Michael was wheezing, coughing for breath after having the wind knocked out of him and _oh God_ every blow made Jack flinch too, he couldn't watch, couldn't-

“Stop!” It was Gavin who choked it out, high and desperate. “Jesus Christ Andrew, _stop_ -”

“You want me to _stop_ , Gavin?” Andrew demanded. Punched Michael across the jaw so hard that his lip split against his teeth and blood splattered the concrete floor under them. “Well guess what, this is what _happens_ when you work in jobs like this. You get _bested_.”

“Stop,” Jack spoke up too, “You've made your point.” There was only so much of a beating anyone could take before serious damage started occurring and it looked like Andrew didn't give a fuck about that; threats wouldn't work but he hoped a calm logic would.

But Andrew just shook his head and hit Michael again, a blow that snapped his head back.

“Maybe if you beg,” he sneered, and Jack felt sick. This guy obviously had a hell of a superiority complex and he realised quickly this was about humiliation, about getting Gavin back for _not_ being scared of him, for not giving him the reaction he'd wanted when he first walked in here.

Gavin gave in immediately, unable to even look over at Michael.

“Please, please stop.”

“ _Beg_.”

“I'm begging you, please stop, please don't hurt him any more.” Gavin's voice cracked a bit and Jack thought for a moment that he was putting it on, but he looked over then and saw Gavin's gaze turned resolutely away from where Andrew was still striking out at Michael every few seconds; eyes wide, shoulders heaving, and it seemed this was a breaking point, no matter how brave he'd been before.

“You too, Pattillo,” Andrew demanded.

His pride only held out for the briefest second; concern for Michael won out after that immediately. He didn't think twice about pleading. Pride could be rebuilt but not every injury could.

“Please stop.”

Andrew finally let up, his fists bloody; Michael slumped over a bit, still coughing. He turned to Gavin, eyes cold and smug.

“There, was that so hard? Now maybe if you'd begged that prettily I wouldn't have left you behind to Barry.”

Red hot anger filled Jack at the words, at his complete lack of remorse, and suddenly he felt an uncharacteristic pang of pure _bloodthirst_ , an unceasing desire to kill this man, or to watch one of the others do it. To punish him.

It only heightened when he saw Gavin flinch at the words; they obviously hit a sore spot, the possibility that all of this might have been avoided. That things could have played out differently.

Andrew just sniffed at Gavin's silence.

“Yeah, it's pathetic. You're weak, Free, you're not made for this.” He shook his head. “This world doesn’t care how much you plead; it'll rip you apart, if it hasn't already. When Edgar takes care of you it will practically be a mercy kill.” He turned on his heel and strode out of the room, shutting the door behind him and leaving them in a frozen, terrible silence.

“Michael!” Jack cried, turning to him. “Michael, are you okay-”

Michael groaned, straightening up and then wincing a little at the motion. One eye was bruised and swollen, blood still dribbling down his lip. Jack felt a terrible wrench in his gut at the sight of it, the same way he'd felt back at the fairground when Michael was injured.

“M'fine,” Michael slurred, and turned to spit out blood. “Takes more than that to bring me down.” He shifted in the chair and gasped, going still again. “Shit. Don't think anything's broken. Just bruised as fuck. Lovely.”

“What the fuck were you playing at?” Jack demanded. “Egging him on like that, were you trying to get yourself-”

“Yeah, actually,” Michael said, and turned to him, staring resolutely into his eyes. “I was. Did you see the guy, in here all puffed up? He got pissed the second Gavin didn't start cowering in fear; he was itching to beat the shit out of one of us and I wasn't about to let it be either of you.”

The words hit Jack and he felt a sudden fierce swell of love for the other man. Still angry though, still worried-

“Well, you fucking shouldn't have,” he snapped, “Don't ever do that again.”

“I'll do it as many times as I need to,” Michael replied immediately. “That's what we _do_ , you know that.”

“Michael,” Gavin spoke up, quiet and a little distressed.

Michael looked over at him, though it was hard for him to lean forward to properly meet his eyes. “I'm fine, Gav. Wasn't joking when I said he hits worse than you. Are _you_ alright?”

“I'm fine.” Gavin's voice was shaking but when Jack looked over at him he realised it was from anger more than anything else; his fists were clenched and there was a look on his face that Jack hadn't seen before. Proper fury, proper vengefulness. “Past ready for Andrew to die.”

“Aren't we all,” Michael replied drily.

As if on cue, there was a great commotion from somewhere outside. Bangs and crashes and shouting. The faint ring of gunshots.

Jack perked up. “I'm guessing that's the cavalry.”

“Holy shit, they got here fast,” Michael said, a grin lighting up his face and causing his lip to split a little wider.

Jack smiled a bit, but he tensed as he began to struggle against his bindings again, trying to twist the zip ties to snap them – the others might be here but that could be a catalyst for someone to come in here, to try and kill them before the others could get to them and rescue them. Michael and Gavin glanced at him and realising what he was doing, began to struggle again themselves.

It was still no use, but they needn't have worried. It seemed the others had planned their siege on the building efficiently enough to locate and get to them before anyone else could, for it was Ryan who flung the door open first, suddenly enough to make them jump. Jack saw his eyes rake over them and then his shoulders visibly slump in relief at the realisation that they were alive and okay.

“Ryan!” Gavin cried, upon seeing him – Ryan's eyes darted back to him and he waved.

“Gav,” he replied. “My little damsel in distress.”

“Shut up,” Gavin said, with a hysterically relieved laugh. Ray and Dan had come through the door as well, and Jack caught a glimpse of Geoff standing out in the corridor, guarding the door. Dan made a beeline for Gavin and Ray for Michael, exclaiming over his injuries.

“Who the fuck did that?”

“Andrew,” Michael replied. “I'm fine, nothing's broken.”

Ray was scowling, but Jack missed whatever he said next, distracted as Ryan came up and leaned over him to cut the zip ties with a pair of clippers produced from his pocket.

“You okay?” he asked quietly, and Jack nodded.

“Fine. He didn't touch me. Edgar's not actually here, he was waiting for one of his men to come get us.”

“If they show up now they'll have a pretty party on their hands,” Ryan grunted. Jack flexed his wrist as the tie snapped free and Ryan moved onto the next one.

“Are _you_ okay?” he asked, and felt Ryan stiffen where his arm was pressed against him.

“I'm okay,” Ryan replied, quietly, but Jack caught the undercurrent of distress. And God, this must have been terrible for him, for them to be captured just after Edgar's little 'gift'. He couldn't even imagine the amount of stress, of anxiety that he must have been put through. As soon as his right arm was free he reached up and squeezed Ryan's shoulder; Ryan looked down at his hand and Jack saw his eyes crease as he smiled behind the mask.

Before long they were all loose from their bonds; Michael could walk, thankfully, though Ray hovered close by his side.

“Did you kill them all yet?” Gavin asked.

Dan shook his head. “There are others still in the facility. It's pretty damn crowded. Bunch of people out there cooking meth and they had a fuckload of guards. We took out most of them, the armed ones at least.”

“Andrew?” Jack asked.

“Not yet,” Dan growled. He glanced at Gavin. “The others off the team, though – they're dead. Got caught in the gunfire.”

Gavin nodded, lips pressing together in something like relief.

“We're gonna kill as many as get in our way and then raze this place to the ground before we leave,” Geoff said, popping his head into the room from outside. “So get your little asses in gear, guys, this place won't burn itself.”

Ryan turned and handed Jack a gun; he took it gratefully, saw Ray handing one to Michael as well. Gavin they kept behind them, trailing at the back of the group as they set out of the storage room they'd been in. Geoff reached out, cupped the back of Jack's neck as soon as he was out of the room. They smiled at each other but Jack could see the desperate fear in Geoff's eyes, the relief that he was alive and okay. It never truly got easier, doing this, they just got used to it, but he knew this time had been worse.

Jack still didn't know exactly where they were, but quickly realised the building was a warehouse of some sort. They moved out into a hallway, quiet and empty though sound could be heard in the distance as, it seemed, people evacuated, wanting to get the hell out of dodge before their band came after them.

“Not all these people are directly in Edgar's employ,” Ryan spoke up. “Seems like this is a drug operation he just has hands in.”

“Still gonna destroy it all,” Michael piped up cheerfully, and Ryan looked over at him in amusement.

They killed several more of the facility's guards as they moved towards the back entrance, but there were little more of them around. Jack figured Ryan and a couple of the others would stay behind to find Andrew and destroy things while the rest of them began their escape.

But as it was, Andrew found them.

They were heading down a corridor lined with storage rooms when one of the doors burst open behind them. It was so quiet they'd thought it empty, but now they whirled around in time to see Andrew bust through from where he'd been hiding, biding his time.

In less than a second he'd grabbed Gavin – still at the back of the group – and had an elbow locked around his neck, dragging him back against his chest, the other hand holding a gun pressed hard against his head. Jack's heart nearly stopped because _fuck, fuck_ , he'd come out of nowhere and _fuck okay_ of course he knew he wasn't getting out of this alive, of course he'd need leverage to make his escape and-

“None of you fucking move,” Andrew snapped. His eyes locked on Dan before scanning over the rest of them. And he was scared, Jack could hear it in his voice, but he was already yanking Gavin back with him as he backed down the corridor. “You hear me? So much as fucking twitch and I blow his head open.”

“Let him go now and maybe I won't kill you slowly,” Ryan growled – had his weapon pointed at Andrew, they all did, but Jack couldn't look at the others for his own terror, couldn't focus on anything other than Gavin's wide scared eyes and the gun against his head.

“Fuck that, any of you try to come after me and I'll kill him. I'm not kidding around.” Andrew moved the gun to wave towards them instead, dragging Gavin another step back.

For a moment they stood paralysed; Jack didn't know what to do, was desperately hoping Geoff or Ryan could pull something off, get them out of this somehow-

But it was Gavin who made the move.

With Andrew pointing his gun at the others he took his chance. With a great yell he slammed his hand down on Andrew's elbow, breaking the grip around his neck, then brought his foot back to stamp down hard on his knee. Taken by surprise, Andrew gave a shout of pain, stumbling back; Gavin wrenched out of his grasp and turned to punch him in the throat, then kick him in the groin. There was desperate force behind it and Andrew dropped like a stone. Gavin struck the gun from his hand and it went skittering across the floor.

Ray darted to pick it up and the rest of them moved forward, pointing their own weapons at the downed man, but none of them moved to help Gavin as he kicked Andrew again.

“Fuck you.” It came out desperate and ragged between gasping breaths - “Fuck you, fuck you, _fuck you.”_

He moved to straddle Andrew, crouching over him, and lifted him by the front of the shirt only to punch him across the face, again and again. They might have joked about him being weak before but there was strength in the blows now and Jack couldn't help but smile a little as they watched in silence, a vindictive satisfaction overtaking him.

When Gavin finally stumbled to his feet he was breathing heavily, clenched fists trembling and knuckles bloody. He stood above Andrew, scowling down at him.

Andrew himself was groaning but he cracked his eyes open and glared up at them all. There was blood dripping from his nose and lip and he sat up a little but didn't move, wary of all the weapons being pointed at him. Fear in his eyes, humiliation. Jack relished it.

Michael moved up and crouched beside him, grabbing his hair to roughly yank his face towards Gavin, forcing him to look at him.

“So fucking pathetic, am I right, Andrew?” he sneered. “Take a good long look asshole because guess what, Gavin's going to be just fine, and you – you're just gonna be dead.”

Andrew bared his teeth but had no response, just flicking his eyes away, and after a minute Michael let him go in disgust, straightening up.

“B.”

Dan had moved up by Gavin's side and was pressing a gun into his hand. Gavin looked down at the weapon, then Andrew, before turning back to stare at Dan, who was gazing at him earnestly.

“Kill him,” Dan said. “He deserves it. You should be the one to do it. He didn't give a fuck about leaving you for dead.”

“Here I was hoping we could set him on fire,” Ryan muttered, and Geoff huffed.

“Same here. Tragically, we don't have time for that.”

Andrew was watching Gavin intently, his chest heaving, and Jack craned his neck to see what was going on. Gavin was staring back at the man who'd been responsible for so much of his torment, but he looked nothing but thoughtful, almost oddly calm.

Finally he said, “No.”

They all turned to stare at him, and he reached out and put a hand on Dan's arm, meeting his eyes as he passed the gun back to him.

“I don't need to kill him,” he said, “I don't care. I'm over it. Or near enough, anyway, I – I'll be fine. I don't need that. I'm not scared of him, it stops here. The rest is just me.” He paused, taking a deep breath.

“I'll be fine,” he repeated, and Dan stared at him a moment before nodding.

“Okay,” he said, and stepped forward himself, raising the gun.

“Wait,” Michael cut in, and Dan turned to him.

“Let me,” Michael said. There was something odd in it, something quiet, and Jack realised that it wasn't just about revenge on Andrew for beating him up earlier. Because this whole time it had been Michael with Gavin, protecting him – in the Corpirate's mansion both times, at the fairground, killing Shadles, even just now – and he saw Dan frown a little, seeming to almost size up the other man before he gave a firm nod and passed him the weapon.

The killing was almost anticlimactic. A single shot and Andrew slumped down to the floor. Gavin let out a long, slow breath, watching him for a moment before turning away, Dan's hand gentle on his back.

Ryan stepped forward to quickly search the body but came up with little of use. They walked in silence as they continued on to the door.

It was a relief to emerge outside and Jack smiled when he caught sight of Kdin in a helicopter parked in a clear area of ground nearby. They paused just outside the building.

“I'm heading back in,” Ryan said. “Gonna sweep the place, in case there's anything there that could lead us to Edgar. Then I'll light it up. Should send a message to him that we're not cowed.”

“They're making meth in there; it'll burn quickly as shit,” Michael pointed out. “Be careful.”

“I will,” Ryan replied.

“You're not going alone,” Geoff said immediately. “I'll come with you. You others head back to the house. We'll take a car from here and drive back.”

To Jack's surprise, Dan stepped forward as well.

“You could probably use another gun,” he said. “I'll help out.”

Geoff looked a little startled by his volunteering so readily to leave Gavin's side to help them, but he nodded.

“Thanks. You others head off. We'll try not to take too long.”

 

* * *

 

  
It was a few hours before the others got back to the house, going on evening. Jack was exhausted from the stress of the day. The constant looming threat of Edgar had been taking its toll for a while, but it was particularly strong now, after this. He just wanted to be _done_ with this.

When the door finally opened and the others walked in he felt a rush of relief. It had been hard to relax, to unwind when they weren't all here.

Michael perked up from where he was sitting on the couch; they were all in the living room. Had been waiting, resting in an exhausted silence.

“How'd it go?” he asked, and Geoff shot him a thumbs up.

“Well, the murder-arson part went really well. Edgar won't be using that again.”

“We didn't find anything helpful, though,” Ryan grunted.

A silence took them over before Ryan walked over to where Michael was sitting, curled up on the couch by Ray's side. Reached out and put a hand on his shoulder, eyes raking over his battered face. Jack had patched him up; he was bruised but nothing else, and it wasn't anything a few quiet days wouldn't fix. Michael smiled a bit, careful not to pull at his lip.

“I'm fine, Ryan,” he said.

Ryan nodded, slowly, and again Jack felt a terrible pang for him at how horrible today must have been.

Geoff came up behind him, reaching up to rest a hand on Ryan's back.

“We all got out of it,” he said firmly. “And now Edgar really does have fuck-all left. Can't even psych us out. We're on a winning streak here, boys, we're close to the end.”

“You said that weeks ago,” Gavin said, but he was smiling and Geoff pulled a face at him before reaching out and grabbing his hand, pulling him off the couch.

“Come here, you.” He glanced over at Jack and held out his hand to him next. “You too, all of you. Fucking group hug or whatever, I think we need it.”

Jack grinned, stepping over only to be yanked forward by Geoff, who was already dragging Ryan in with his other arm. The man made a muffled noise of protest, but he was laughing, and he didn't pull away from them even if he was hesitant in his movements as he wrapped one arm around Jack and the other Michael.

The hug was a little uncomfortable; all of them crowded in together. Gavin's elbow was bony where it jammed into Jack's side as he ended up crushed between him and Ray, and for some reason Michael couldn't stop snickering, which rather ruined any sort of sentimental mood, and they couldn't quite manage to get into a position where some people weren't squashed in the middle and others left hanging off the outside. But it was still nice, still felt good to be there all the six of them, and Jack couldn't have been happier than to have all five of his boyfriends in his arms. He knew they'd get there.

After a few minutes of just sort of standing there, holding onto each other, a slight awkwardness befell them. Michael still wouldn't stop giggling.

Geoff opened his mouth but Jack cut in.

“I swear to God if any of you starts singing that fucking High School Musical song...”

They fell about laughing and pulled apart, most of them flopping back onto the couch. It was then that they noticed Dan standing to the side, watching them in bemusement. Gavin coughed a bit awkwardly, looking away, Geoff just grinning shamelessly – but Dan just shook his head after a minute and smiled.

“So where'd you learn to kick ass, B? Thought I'd lost my damn mind when you starting beating the shit out of Andrew.”

“Ah ha.” Gavin rubbed the back of his neck, grinning. “That was Ryan. Ray and Michael too. Guess I picked up more than I thought.”

“Knew that'd come in useful some day,” Michael crowed, reaching out to ruffle Gavin's hair. “You did good.”

“Did _well."_

Dan was looking at Ryan thoughtfully and Jack followed his gaze; the man was looking down at Gavin and after a second he reached out and patted his head before turning back towards Geoff.

“So what's the plan now? Edgar's on the offensive even if he doesn't have much left. We can't afford to spend too much time sitting around.”

“We won't.” It was Gavin who cut in. “Believe it or not this little kidnapping attempt was actually good for us.”

They all turned towards him.

“How so?” Geoff asked.

“If I'm thinking of the right people, the guys who run that meth operation Edgar's involved in have a bunch of other places around the gaff. Now I know who they are I remember the Corpirate was really involved with them and I'm nearly into his hard drive. I wouldn't be surprised if Edgar's main base comes up in one of the deals. If they're cooking commercial quantities he'd want some of it to go through him.”

“Makes sense,” Geoff said, and grinned. “So we have a lead then! Great.”

It was a surprisingly good end to what had been a shitty, shitty day, and they were all in high spirits as they moved off to eat together. Jack was still tired as fuck, but he felt oddly at peace as he watched Ray and Michael laugh together over something, Gavin smiling and enthusiastically arguing over something with Geoff, Dan watching them all with something much more approving now, engaging in conversation with them all, getting to know them better. Ryan kept his mask on and didn't eat, obviously still not wanting to reveal himself to Dan, but he still sat with them, talking and laughing along, and they all went with it, trusting he knew what was best for himself.

Eventually Gavin went off to do some work. Jack saw Geoff glance after him, obviously worried that he should be sleeping after such a trying day – but Dan drifted out after him and they didn't say anything. Jack found he trusted Dan to intervene if Gavin was getting too tired.

Ryan headed off fairly quickly too, going outside to keep first watch, and the rest of them were left sitting around in the lounge.

“I'm heading to bed,” Geoff said then, and cast Jack a significant look. “You coming with?”

He couldn't help his slow smile. It tended to be like this after one or the other of them had been in danger. If it was bad – if there were injuries – they'd just lie, arms wrapped around each other, slow breaths and tight embrace and soft kisses. Soaking in the fact that they were both still okay.

But there were other times, when they weren't hurt badly, when they'd taken out whoever'd put them in the situation. Then it was different; desperate grasping hands and revelling in the rush that they were okay, they were alive. Today had been one of those days; things had been bad for too long. They needed something in between.

“Of course,” he said, and Geoff gave a lazy grin, tongue caught between his teeth, when there came the sound of someone clearing their throat and they both looked over to Michael and Ray on the couch.

Something caught in his breath as a rush of possibilities hit him, and he knew everyone else was thinking the same thing. Michael and Ray looked at each other, some silent exchange passing between them, and then Michael squeezed Ray's hand and turned towards them.

“Mind if I join you too?” His voice was teasing but there was an undercurrent of something nervous in it.

“The more the merrier,” Geoff replied immediately, then belatedly looked over at Jack, who smiled and nodded.

“Of course.”

It would be easy to turn to Ray and ask if he wanted to come along as well, but they weren't quite at that stage yet, didn't want to push. Better to let him move at his own pace. As it was, Michael leaned in to kiss Ray before he got up off the couch, and Jack got up and walked over, leaning in to give him a soft peck on the lips as well.

“Goodnight, Ray,” he said, and Ray smiled up at him.

“'night Jack.”

Michael trailed after them as they headed to one of the bedrooms. There was an excited thrill low in the pit of Jack's stomach and he couldn't quite seem to quite stop grinning; the others couldn't either, and when they got into the bedroom and shut the door behind him for a moment they just stood beaming stupidly at each other like Cheshire cats before they all broke down laughing.

“So that back there was like, you're gonna bang, right?” Michael asked, and Geoff nodded.

“That was sort of the idea.”

“Just checking.”

“Ray gonna be alright?” Jack asked, and Michael nodded.

“He's fine. Wants to take it slower, which I've assured him is all good.”

Geoff grinned. “In that case...”

He trailed off, whereupon Jack realised they had absolutely no idea how to go about this. Because if it had just been a one-night stand, some sort of fun experiment he and Geoff were doing, they would have known how to just move into it; the logistics of it weren't what was worrying so much as the fact that this was _Michael_ , he wanted things to be right, even if he knew they wouldn't be perfect straight away.

As it was, Michael shrugged off his jacket and then, to Jack's confusion, moved to pull across a chair from the desk on the other side of the room.

“Kind of thought I could just watch, actually.”

Geoff paused. “You sure?”

“Yeah. Start slow or whatever, I... I don't know, start there and see where it goes. That okay?” A slightly wicked grin. “Or will my judging eyes give you performance anxiety?”

Jack laughed as Geoff pulled a mock-hurt face.

“I'll give you a performance alright,” he replied, and leaned forward, grasping Jack's face in both hands as he kissed him – hard, almost frantic; Jack dropped his hands to the other's waist, steadying him as he responded in kind. He was breathless when Geoff finally pulled away, hand already going to the buttons of his shirt, but Jack grabbed his wrist.

“One sec,” he said.

Michael was stood watching them, lips parted a little, and Jack walked over to him, tilting his face up to kiss him gently. When he pulled back he frowned a little as he ran his thumb gently over the bruises blooming dark across Michael's face.

“Just tell us if you want anything,” he said softly, and Michael nodded, eyes wide, still smiling incessantly. Jack smiled back. Felt Geoff's arms wrap around his waist and turned, leaning in to kiss him again as they walked back towards the bed. A little nervous with Michael watching them but excited, more than anything else, glad at things moving along and eager to take things even further. Because they'd work it out – they'd work it all out, in time.

 

* * *

 

  
Ray's stomach was churning as he stood in the doorway, looking out at Ryan. The other man had his back to him, looking out over the rail, and he let his hand fall from the door handle, trying to work out his courage to go out there.

 _Come on. Come on, you fuck, you want this_.

Michael was off with Jack and Geoff and he had seen it there, that unspoken offer to join them. But he didn't want that – not because he wasn't ready, because he thought he might be, maybe, he wasn't quite sure yet – but because he wanted something else right now, at this stage.

To make a move without Michael.

His own leap of faith without his first boyfriend there holding his hand; he wasn't sure why, perhaps some lingering uncertainty about the different levels of interaction still between them all. But right now he wanted – _needed_ – to do something on his own, and he thought, perhaps, Ryan could help with that. After today, after he'd seen so intimately into the other man's vulnerabilities. Perhaps it was time to open himself up as well.

 _Come on_.

After a second, though, he took a step back, for some reason the thought crossing his mind to check on Gavin first, because if he was with Ryan and the other three were off together then Gavin was left on his own, the odd one out, and Ray thought it prudent to at least look in on him before going off for the night.

He padded quietly down the hall to the garage door. Slid it open and peered inside.

Gavin and Dan did not notice his arrival. The computer was on, something processing on the screen, but they were sitting looking at each other, deep in conversation.

“But you're _happy_ ,” he heard Dan say, and after a frozen sort of pause, Gavin nodded.

“Yeah. I'm happy.”

“Okay then.” Dan's hand was settled on Gavin's knee, but he pulled it back now. Gavin looked up at him and grinned, a little shy nervous grin and Ray couldn't help but smile as well because he knew that look, that tentative excitement towards all that was to come, all the possibilities, and it was nice seeing it directed at _someone else_ , for Gavin to be sure enough, it seemed now, to share his eagerness with someone outside of it all. His smile only widened when he realised Gavin was still wearing the jacket he had given him the other day.

“About Andrew today,” Dan began, and Ray slipped out of the room then. It wasn't his place to eavesdrop, even if he was still burning to know exactly what had happened with the man. And he understood, now, that there were things Gavin had to work through with Dan – talk about with him – even if not with the others yet. All of them getting together wasn't going to fix things; there were issues outside of the relationship, and he had to work through them outside of it. And that was okay.

Something about seeing that, about seeing Gavin take control both then and earlier today, fuelled his courage, and he didn't hesitate as he opened the front door and popped his head out.

Ryan turned to look at him and Ray waved.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” Ryan replied, sounding a little bemused. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah. I was, uh... kind of wondering if you wanted to come in and sit.”

He could practically sense Ryan raising his eyebrows under the mask, but after a minute he nodded and headed inside, into the warm. They settled on the couch together and Ryan reached up and tugged off the mask of his own volition.

“Weird day today,” Ray said, and Ryan nodded.

“That's one way of putting it.”

“But we're all fine.”

“We are."

“Do you feel better now?” Ray asked, a little hesitantly, and after a minute Ryan nodded.

“Yeah,” he replied. And did not expand on it.

He didn't have to. Enough had been said already today. Ray would never forget seeing him so open and raw and vulnerable, so totally broken – he understood better now, Ryan's fear for all of them, how hard it had hit him the last time this had happened. And he wasn't okay yet, that would still take time and trust and even then the fear would always be there. But _better_ was good, at least for now, and they didn't need to talk about it more.

He leaned into Ryan's side and the other man dropped an arm down around his shoulders, tugging him closer, but Ray shifted around. And he was nervous, so nervous his heart was pounding because he didn't quite know how to go about this, how to communicate what he wanted – if Ryan even wanted the same – but he put one hand up to Ryan's chest and leaned in to press their lips together.

Ryan kissed back. There was something slow and easy in it, something relaxed as Ryan shifted to lie back against the armrest of the couch, tugging Ray gently with him. His hands pressed flat to Ryan's chest, he could feel his heart thundering. Let out a soft murmur against Ryan's lips when the other man's hands ran down his sides to settle on his hips.

Ryan seemed content to lie there, lips moving languid-soft against Ray's, but he wanted to take things further and after a minute he pulled back, sitting up, and reached down towards the hem of his shirt.

Ryan grabbed his wrists, stilling him, and Ray looked up at him nervously.

“Is this okay?” he asked.

Ryan looked a little concerned. “Is this what you want?” he asked, and Ray felt suddenly embarrassed, almost. The first time with Michael it had been building up, it was a first for both of them and they'd had a few false starts already. This was rather more abrupt.

But he swallowed, mustering his confidence, and said, “I think I need this, actually.”

Ryan looked at him measuring for a moment. In the dimness of the living room, lit up by a glow from the cable box but little else, his eyes looked very blue. But he nodded, then.

“I think I might need it too,” he replied, and pulled Ray's hands away from his shirt. “Slowly, though,” he added. “We have time. No need to rush.”

Ray let out a soft exhale of breathe, relieved, only to stiffen as Ryan laughed at him.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“ _What_?”

“Nothing. You're cute.”

Ray scoffed but couldn't quite stop his grin, and Ryan laughed again – and God, it was good to see him happy, to know that there was darkness and pain in his history but he could still have this, now, and smile at Ray as he tugged him back down onto him, and he leaned back in and kissed Ryan again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> youre-my-bois on tumblr made this [awesome fanmix](http://8tracks.com/kaylaroseh/you-are-a-braver-man-than-i) for the story and starki-ironfrostsobeautiful made this [fanmix for Gavin](http://8tracks.com/littlemissunco/the-great-sealand-takeover-gavin) :) They’re both amazing, thank you guys so much <3


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **T/W: killing of animals, mentions of animal cruelty.**

Over the next few days Edgar made no further offensive moves – but the effects of his previous attacks still hung over them.

Geoff was kept busy with affairs back in Achievement City. After the bombs targeting his assets the police were crawling all over the place and he was hard pressed to organise everyone, to keep things on the down low without grinding his business to a stand still.

He'd dealt with a lot of problems at the forum but there were others who hadn't been there who he still needed to talk to, not to mention finding new weapons dealers, new hideouts to replace the ones Edgar had destroyed. New men, too, to back up his crew. It was a lot of work, a lot of phone calls and stress and-

And it had _rattled him_ , more than he liked to admit, that blow against his empire. People had tried to take over before, yes, but not at this scale and none had managed to cause quite so much damage. He checked in on Kerry daily and was relieved to hear that he'd soon left the hospital. While his injuries were not terribly severe they were still bad enough that Geoff sent him off on leave.

It was hard.

It was always hard when one of his close crew members got hurt, but for some reason this hit even harder than most other occasions. Maybe because he knew, from what they had seen and what Ryan had told them, that unless they stopped Edgar now there would be no end to this. He'd known that from the start, but it was even more apparent _now_ and deep down he was terrified, _terrified_ of more people getting hurt.

And Edgar's warning hadn't helped.

He'd put on a brave front for the others but he couldn't stop thinking about it, those charred and burned bodies. The fact that Edgar had somehow worked out that he was close enough to the others for that to be the best way to rattle him was alarming. He felt sick at the very thought of it – was trying to block it out from his mind – and the capture of the others by Andrew hadn't helped.

They were fine now, they'd gotten out – that had, in actual fact, turned out to their benefit as they'd not only taken down more of Edgar's men but gotten Gavin's confidence up to boot – but it lingered. It lingered in the bruises on Michael's face, yellowing and fading by the day. In the way Dan rarely left Gavin's side, would barely even leave him alone in the garage while he was working. In how they all slept restlessly now – Geoff rarely got through a whole night without waking up at least once, startled by some sudden paranoia that they were in danger and he had to check up on the others, and he noticed the same in Jack, Michael, Ray. Little needed to be said about Ryan and Gavin's sleeping habits.

But as much as there was fearand apprehension in the tense days that followed as Gavin continued to work on finding Edgar - it was cancelled out, in part, by everything else that was going on, because as each day went by things became easier between the six of them, seemed to fall into place. There were moments, individual little happenings that moved them slowly but surely along the road to making this _work_.

Waking up with Michael, not just that first morning but most mornings after; Ray seemed to prefer to spend nights with Ryan or Gavin, which Geoff was fine with. He knew that he'd get around to all the others eventually, and liked having the time to get to know Michael first.

It was startling just how well he fit in between Jack and Geoff. That first night was a little awkward, a little clumsy as they fumbled trying to work out how exactly to all move around each other, but they laughed it off. It was _fun_ , working it all out, making light of it when things didn't quite go right, but each night it got easier, more fluid. And Geoff loved them both individually – the comfortable familiarity of Jack compared to the rawer passion in Michael, excited at how _new_ this all was – but when it was all three of them together, two sets of warm hands running over his skin... that was something else, something he knew he wanted more of.

Michael woke in the night more often than Jack and it became routine for he and Geoff to end up taking watch together, often viewing crappy late night sitcoms softly on the television. Sometimes talking shit about the bad plot lines, sometimes finding them the funniest thing in the world. Annoying the others the next morning with references from the shows that only the two of them understood.

Ryan still didn't eat with them much, just because Dan tended to be there, and Geoff had given up pushing about it because the minute he was alone with the other man he noticed him making an effort to take the mask off. As he did early one morning – just past dawn – standing out on the deck after his watch. Geoff had slept badly and couldn't get back to sleep after he woke. Came out to join him with a steaming cup of coffee.

“Thank you,” Ryan said, sounding a little startled as he slipped the mask off and took the mug in hand. “You... know how I take it.”

“I'd be a pretty crap boyfriend if I hadn't picked up on that by now,” Geoff replied with a grin, cradling his own cup. “Fuck, it's cold out.”

It was. They were moving steadily into the first month of winter by now and at this hour the air was frigid and icy, steam billowing from the tops of their mugs and mingling with the cold mist of their breath before them. Geoff deliberately blew in Ryan's direction and laughed when he reared back, nearly spilling his drink.

“Wouldn't be surprised if it snowed,” Ryan said.

Geoff tilted his head. “Mm, maybe. S'been known to happen in these parts. That'd be nice. White Christmas.”

Ryan startled a little. “Shit, Christmas is soon.”

“Yeah, man.” He grinned a bit. “I mean, we don't really do much for it, usually – tried for a Christmas heist one year but that went right to shit – normally we just take it as a chance to relax. Which will be good, after Edgar.”

“After Edgar.” A smile tugged at the side of Ryan's mouth but there was something bitter in it, something almost sad, and Geoff turned to him.

“What is it?”

“It feels... odd, to think that in a few days this is all going to be over.” He set his cup aside on the rail in favour of folding his arms almost defensively across his chest. “You know this... this might not go well.”

“Way to be optimistic, Ryan,” Geoff grumbled. “I don't want to think about that. Confidence, man, it's all about confidence.”

“I know that, but...” he trailed off. “It's harder now.”

“What's harder?”

“Before all... _this_ ,” he waved a hand, encompassing himself, Geoff, the house where the others all slept. “It was easy. I knew I wanted him dead. I didn't care what else happened, as long as I killed him. But now... now I want him dead, but I also want to survive, and I want – _need –_ all of you to get out okay too. So it's going to be harder.”

“We're going to be fine,” Geoff said firmly, but they both knew you could never be sure, not with this sort of thing. Ryan looked away and Geoff stepped forward and put his own mug down so he could grip the other man's shoulders and turn him to face him.

“Hey,” he said, “We're gonna be _fine_. Don't think about all the ways this could go wrong. You should know that only psychs you out. There's gonna be an after, okay, we're gonna get out, and we're gonna have Christmas together, and you're gonna join the crew and scare the ever loving shit out of everybody, and we're all gonna become disgustingly domestic, probably, or at least have a lot of very wild sex.”

Ryan rolled his eyes and let out a little huff of breath. “I'm guessing you've started already with Michael.”

“Hey, you're welcome to join in whenever.”

“After,” Ryan said, and even if Geoff felt he might just be humouring him, at least he was smiling. “After we kill Edgar.”

“Great! There's your incentive,” Geoff said, and Ryan laughed, picking up his mug again. And Geoff stepped closer to him, their arms pressing together, a soft point of warmth against the biting cold. And later when they went back inside Geoff caught Ryan watching Michael and Ray with a soft, measuring sort of look and knew he was thinking of later, a hope that things wouldn't end here and they'd have time, a future ahead of them.

With Gavin it was a series of little things. His head on Geoff's shoulder when they sat in the lounge after dinner, having been convinced to take a short break before heading back to work. Curling into his side with his legs up over Geoff's lap, sprawled all over him like a cat.

Geoff would sit out with him in the garage sometimes, watching – he understood little of what was going on, only that Gavin knew what he was doing. And he'd catch himself staring, drinking in the movements of the other's body – the way when he was focusing hard on something on the screen he'd catch his bottom lip between his teeth and bite it a little. How periodically he'd lean back in his chair and reach up and run his hands through his hair, slow rhythmic movements that would always leave it a dishevelled mess. It still got too cold out in the garage and by the end of any given day Gavin would end up with five different people's jackets tucked around him, six if Dan felt like taking the mick.

But Gavin was happier now. It seemed facing up to Andrew – destroying that one haunting remnant of his past – had been a major stepping stone in his path to recovery. Having Dan there was helping too, and even if there were still times when he looked like he wasn't sleeping, when he left the room to change or forewent sleeping pills in favour of a drink, Geoff didn't speak up about it. Trusted that he was at least talking to Dan, that he was managing fine on his own – and not babying him seemed to help, those things occurred less and less.

Ray Geoff worried about at times, there was still an odd hesitance to him but Michael assured him he was just taking his time, moving at his own pace – and, it seemed, that pace involved spending more and more time with Ryan. As the two of them and Dan worked in a similar field they took it upon themselves to begin gathering and preparing weapons for the inevitable push against Edgar, and Geoff often walked in on the three of them sitting about, swapping stories, debating the merits of the various resources they had at their disposal. He was glad to see Dan getting on with the two of them, especially Ryan – it had been a point of concern for him earlier but it seemed that the more he got to know them the more Dan's worries faded; it helped that he was about the same age as Michael and Ray.

He walked out the back one evening, having heard some curious noises, to find Ryan and Ray engaged in a knife fight in the yard. Standing back to watch them he observed as they clashed blades – carefully, he noticed, they hadn't sharpened them either, the blunt edges likely to cause far less harm – pausing now and then for Ryan to correct Ray's form.

It was strange seeing the other man in the role of teacher. Something about it suited him, oddly – it was in stark contrast to his usual lone-wolf demeanour but it almost looked like he was falling back into a role he'd played before, like it was familiar but distant to him, and Geoff frowned as he remembered Jack mentioning how Ryan had said he'd mentored his old team, built them up.

Ray got a good blow in, ending with the tip of his knife to Ryan's throat, and Geoff clapped, drawing their attention to him. Ray grinned, doing a theatrical bow only to nearly trip over his own feet and stumble, and Ryan barked out a laugh as he reached to steady him.

“You know they say not to bring a knife to a gunfight,” Geoff began, and Ray nodded.

“Yeah, I know. This is just in case. Ryan is training me to be the Supreme.”

Geoff laughed. “Kinda figured you'd be wanting to bring your grenade launcher along.”

“Oh man, _yes_ ,” Ray said, beaming, and Ryan laughed again.

“Getting Edgar with a grenade would be quite satisfying. A little quick for my tastes, perhaps, but poetically just. When I last encountered him I lobbed one at him but it was too far out of range. Gave him some scars, though, a bit of the shrapnel caught him. Before I was forced to retreat I saw him bleeding through the mask.”

“You haven't seen him without it, though,” Geoff said, and Ryan shook his head.

“No. But if I have the chance, it's coming off. I want to look him in the eyes when I gut him.”

Ray and Geoff exchanged a glance. There was anger in Ryan's tone but it wasn't the same murderous darkness as when he used to talk about Edgar. There was something lighter in it now, something calmer. Geoff could only take that as a good sign.

“Well, I'll leave you kids to it,” he said, turning back to the house, but couldn't resist watching from the window when he got back inside. They matched well; Ray's smaller, sharper moments compared to Ryan's large fluid grace. Their sparring was lighter this time; he could see them laughing and joking around, Ray doing a stupid dance on the tips of his toes that made Ryan pause to crack up. Geoff couldn't help but grin at that.

It was not just the other five who he found himself making steps with, but Dan too; while he spent more time with the younger three in the group he seemed to have relaxed a little around Geoff and Jack, and even Ryan, who he appeared to have come to some sort of understanding with.

Dan was an issue Geoff didn't quite know what to do about. Now that he had returned he obviously was not about to just disappear again, and it wasn't long before Geoff consulted Jack about what, exactly, to do with him.

They ended up cornering him when he'd just come out of the bathroom, his eyes flickering between them in alarm when he saw the two of them waiting for him.

“Am I in trouble?” Dan asked, only half-joking, and Geoff smiled reassuringly.

“Nah, we just want to talk.”

Dan's brows furrowed. “Is this about Gav?”

“No, it's about you,” Geoff replied, and beckoned him into the lounge where they sat down. Dan still looked faintly worried and Geoff and Jack couldn't help but laugh.

“Relax,” Geoff assured him. “I just wanted to ask what you're planning on doing after all this.”

“Oh,” Dan said. He looked thoughtful for a moment, then shrugged. “I mean, whatever Gavin wants to do. I assume he's sticking around here since he's... with all you guys now.”

There was still something odd in the way he said it – he hadn't brought it up with them since that initial time and Gavin hadn’t said anything further to them about it, so Geoff had assumed they'd worked it out between them. Now he gave Dan a measuring look but couldn't quite work out what he was thinking. As it was, he nodded.

“He is. And if you wanted – Jack and I were thinking, we need more men we can trust on the crew, especially after all this.”

Dan stared at them.

“You're offering me a job,” he sad, after a moment.

Jack nodded. “We've been offering a lot of jobs lately,” he muttered.

Dan still looked faintly incredulous. “You two run Achievement City. I know you don’t let people into your crew lightly. You barely know me.”

“That's true,” Geoff said. “But Gavin needs you here and as far as I'm concerned you've proved yourself to us by helping him, so. If you want to stick around there's a place for you.”

Dan didn't take long to think about it. He was nodding only a minute later.

“Sounds good. Better than working for another prick like Andrew, at any rate. And here I can keep an eye on Gav.” He paused, then added, “Gavin says he's happy with this. But just so you know, if you do anything to change that I will make you regret it, overlord of Achievement City or not.”

“Duly noted,” Jack replied, exchanging a glance with Geoff who nodded. He'd been expecting the shovel talk from Dan for a while now.

Dan appeared satisfied with that. He seemed to have seen by now that he didn't have too much to worry about.

“Good,” he said then, and stood up. “In that case, thanks. Excited to work with you.”

They watched him leave and Jack turned to Geoff with a small smile.

“Things are going to be so different after this,” he said, and Geoff nodded.

“God, tell me about it. Didn't expect at the start of this that we'd end up changing up our entire crew.” It felt strange to think back to how things were before, when Ray and Michael were just occasional hires, Ryan a lurking myth and they didn't even know Gavin yet. Now the thought that they'd be seeing them every day, working with them, was a change that Geoff couldn't wait for.

And it was worth it, later on, when Gavin came up to him with a big grin and yanked him in for a heated kiss, enough force behind it to make Geoff step back against the wall as he ran his hands down Gavin's back to settle on his waist.

“What's this about then?” he teased, when Gavin finally stopped for breath. Dug his fingers into Gavin's sides a bit until he squirmed.

“You know what it's about, you pleb,” Gavin replied, and kissed him again to shut him up. Geoff scoffed out a laugh against his lips and let himself be pressed back against the wall, circled his hands around the small of Gavin's back and tugged him closer, a tight embrace even as Gavin pulled back a little and whispered ' _thank you_ ' in his ear as if he didn't know Geoff would do anything in the world for him.  
  


* * *

   
And then, only a day later – this just under a week since they killed Andrew – Gavin found Edgar.

“It's three hours from here,” Gavin said, as they stood around the dining room table looking over the maps and images on his laptop. Lindsay, Kdin and Caleb had been called over as soon as Geoff heard they had a location. The whole crew was here now and it felt a little like they were going to war. Perhaps they were, in a way.

“A fucking abattoir,” Ryan said, shaking his head. “Unbelievable.”

“Well, he's repurposed it a lot,” Gavin said. “It's well clever, actually. They build them outside city limits. No one goes near them if they can help it. And a bunch got abandoned when they changed the laws and stuff. It's no wonder he's hard to find.”

“But you found him,” Geoff said, with a proud little grin, and Gavin nodded.

“Yeah, well. Still gotta get in there. It's not gonna be easy.”

“You said you'd taken down most of his men,” Lindsay spoke up. “How many are left?”

“Not many at all,” Geoff replied. “If the figures Heyman gave us are correct he should have about a two dozen hired guns left. That's nothing we can't handle.”

“Plus the pig, then Edgar himself,” Gavin replied. “That's nowhere near enough to have a proper defensive watch on the place, not with the size of it.”

“But he must know we're coming,” Ryan spoke up. “He'll be waiting.”

Gavin nodded. “Yeah. So we can't just go in guns blazing. Gotta be clever about it.”

“Can you get eyes in the place from here?” Geoff asked, and Gavin shook his head.

“No, but I've seen plenty of these hideouts before. This is his base, his throne room, he'll want to be able to be in complete control of it when he's in there. Which means he definitely has closed circuit at least. Probably a control room too to monitor everything from, activate fire doors and stuff.” He tapped the map on the table. “He's got this under wraps. I've got fuck all on the layout of the place beyond the old blueprints from when it was originally built and some vague bits on the outside of it. But get me in there and I can guide you through a lot better – probably find Edgar in there too.”

“No,” Geoff said immediately – saw all the others stiffen where they stood, Dan too. “There's no fucking way you're getting anywhere near that place.”

“Absolutely not,” Ryan agreed. “You're staying back here, Gavin, or even better back in Achievement City.”

“You're not all going in there to fight Edgar and leaving me behind,” Gavin snapped – Geoff was a little surprised, would have thought he'd vastly prefer to stay out of the danger zone. “You go in there blind and you'll be killed immediately, I won't – I _can't_ let you do that.”

“I make the calls,” Geoff said.

“Oh, you're playing the boss card.”

“I'll play whatever fucking card I have to to keep you out of danger.”

Gavin straightened up a bit, eyes flashing.

“Then I'm playing the specialist card. You hired me to do a job so _let me do it_. One or two of you come with me. We hole up in that control room and I'll be fine. I can guide you from there. We'll be able to see anything coming.”

“Geoff,” Jack said softly, and Geoff turned to him. Saw him nodding a little.

“You can't tell me you're agreeing with this,” Geoff hissed, leaning in close.

“I think you shouldn't be babying him,” Jack replied, “And that you're letting emotion get the better of you.”

Geoff glanced over to see Kdin, Lindsay and Caleb watching him curiously. Realised with reluctance that Jack was right – as leader it was always his job to put the crew and the job before his personal preferences; he'd done it with Jack many a time before. Trying to keep him away and out of danger did no one any favours. And it was hard, he was protective by nature and Edgar had preyed on that, but he couldn't let it stand in the way of their defeating him now.

The others were watching him carefully and he glanced at Michael and Ray. They looked concerned, Michael especially, and Geoff could tell they didn't want Gavin in there either.

“Michael,” he said then, and Michael looked up at him.

“You and Dan stick with Gavin,” Geoff ordered. He looked down at the simple layout they had on the map. “The rest of us make some commotion, enough to let you sneak in. Then you guide us from there.”

Michael nodded, relaxing a little at the idea that he'd be by Gavin's side the whole time.

“I'll get you some simple charges, enough to cause a stir,” he said, and Geoff nodded.

“Good. Once we're in we need to make sure he doesn't get out of the building.”

“Destroy the vehicles,” Michael said. “I can blow them remotely. Set it first then meet Dan and Gav on my way out.”

“Kdin, you stay in the sky with Lindsay,” Geoff said. “You see Edgar trying to run for it, you take him down.”

They both nodded – though they could handle themselves well enough, they were not so much trained killers as the mercenaries of the group were, and Geoff didn't want them directly in the action.

“So it's you, me, Ryan and Ray as the ground team. Do we need more hired guns?” Jack asked. “There's no way Edgar doesn't have something up his sleeve. We could end up outnumbered.”

Ryan shook his head. “No. Only people we trust there.”

Geoff nodded. “Yeah, I agree. We stay careful, organised and in communication and I think – I think we should be fine.”

A silence settled over them. It felt strange, to have this solid plan, to be so close to taking him down.

“When?” Ray spoke up, quietly.

“We need time to work out the details. Weapons, see if we can get better maps. Find a time to strike and transport to get there,” Jack said. “I'm thinking three days from now.”

“You don't think Edgar might attack _us_ sooner?” Dan asked, but Ryan shook his head.

“He'll be playing the defensive game now.” He stared about at the mall, intently, and Geoff was abruptly reminded of when they'd first met. This legendary nightmare in his apartment telling them all about the foe they were up against. “I... I can barely believe it but we really are _this close_ to taking him down.”

“It's decided then,” Geoff announced. “Three days. Now we just need to work out the details. And remember,” he added, looking around at them all. “If possible, the kill is Ryan's – but not at the expense of taking out Edgar.”

They all nodded, solemnly, and Geoff looked over to meet Ryan's eyes. The other man stared back at him for a moment, something unreadable in his gaze, before he too gave an affirming nod.  


* * *

  
Perhaps they should have been happy to be so close to their goal, but building up over the next three days and culminating the evening before, Geoff felt nothing but _sick_ . Even his previous burning desire for vengeance against Edgar he could not quite muster up. Normally before a heist he got himself in the zone, pumped up on adrenaline and excitement, but he couldn't bring himself to feel that way now. Just a faint nausea in the pit of his stomach. Despite all his reassurances to Ryan a crawling fear wormed at him that _this might not work, we might all be dead tomorrow, we could fail-_

He was normally more confident than this but they had never faced something like Edgar before.

The day before the big hit was about to take place, an odd silence overtook all of them, the way it always did before a heist as they settled, got in the zone, moved off to take time to themselves and prepare. Geoff sat at the table going over the plans again and again. He felt underprepared; normally weeks if not months of planning went into a big job but they didn't have the time for that now. There was definitely going to be a certain degree of luck involved, something he hated relying upon.

Maybe they should all have been doing some sort of team bonding shit, reassuring one another, savouring what may or may not be their last moments together. But they didn't, just moved off in their little groups – Ryan on his own, Gavin and Dan quietly out together in the garage, Ray and Michael in the living room sitting together but not talking.

This wasn't about the relationship.

This was about taking down Edgar and everything else, even this, took a backseat to it. If they killed him, _then_ they could celebrate, then they could sort things out. For now it was about self-preparation, about accomplishing this one final task.

The abattoir was far out enough that to get there at the scheduled time they'd have to wake at a ridiculous hour, so they retired early, though Geoff expected none of them would be sleeping well anyway. By the time he crawled into bed he still half felt like he was going to throw up and he didn't think the others had noticed until he heard someone step into the room, shut the door behind them before a heavy weight settled on the bed beside him.

“Jack,” Geoff said, recognising him without even rolling over to look – he felt his boyfriend's hand smooth over his hair as he gave a soothing hum.

“Everything okay?” Jack asked.

“Fine. Gonna be glad to get this over with.”

“That's not what I meant.” Jack switched the light off and climbed in with him; they'd moved the two bed apart again and it was a squeeze for two grown men to fit in one. Geoff rolled over to face him, tucking himself in against Jack's chest. And this was one way in which he wasn't quite there with the others yet, giving up that control, that sense of always having to be the leader, the strong one, the one in charge. With Jack it was easy, they'd been doing it for years, but to some degree with the others it was still a bit of a struggle, giving himself up completely.

“Nervous?” Jack asked, hands rubbing over his back gently.

Geoff scoffed, but he couldn't lie, not to Jack.

“Been a fucking long time since I had stage fright this badly.”

“Can't blame you. I think we're all feeling that,” Jack said.

Geoff bit his lip. “It's on _me_ to get everyone out of this.”

Jack couldn't say anything to that, not really, because as awful as it was it was _true_ , he was the one in charge, organising everything. If anything went to shit he had to make a call and it was going to be hard as fuck now that he wasn't just ordering his crew around, he was ordering five people he was -

He was-

He was really, deeply, terribly in fucking love with and it probably wasn't the best moment to realise the depth of those feelings. But somehow now, facing the fact that tomorrow was a day that would make or break them – he could see more clearly than ever.

Jack let out a soft sigh against the top of Geoff's head.

“Yeah, well, I believe in you,” he said, and it was the cheesiest thing but the certainty in his voice, the sheer _confidence_ warmed something in Geoff. “And I believe in all the rest of them. We'll pull this off.”

“You're such a sap,” Geoff grumbled, but Jack pulled back a little, enough that Geoff could see his face in the dim light of the bedroom, the resolve in his eyes.

“No, I just know that I'm dating five of the most brilliant, talented, _really fucking dangerous_ people in the world.”

Geoff smiled a bit. The words eased him a little, but not enough – but there wasn't anything he could do about that except wait, and get his shit together and _pull this off_ , even if suddenly all he wanted was to cling to Jack and never let go. But he had him here, for tonight, and pulling him close he kissed him deeply for a moment before pulling back, resting their foreheads together, breath soft against each other's lips.

“I love you."

They said it a lot but not often like _this_ , deep and too sincere and like it could be the last time either of them heard it again, and Jack's hands tightened a little on his shoulders.

“I love you too,” he replied, and Geoff let out a rush of breath. Buried his face in the others chest and attempted to relax a little, to not think about everything that was going to come tomorrow or beyond. Just settled in the now, here, with the man he loved and tried to pretend this was just like any other night.  


* * *

  
“You right, B?”

Gavin's eyes snapped open when Dan touched his shoulder. He startled awake to find he'd begun dozing off in his chair, and it took a moment for him to remember exactly was going on.

_Oh right. Tomorrow_. He glanced at the time and grimaced as he realised it had gotten later than he'd expected. It was about time for them all to be trying to sleep if they wanted to get up early tomorrow.

“Gav? Okay?”

He glanced over to find Dan looking at him with concern and forced a smile.

“I'm fine. Fell asleep a bit.” He yawned, stretching as he leaned forward to switch the computer off. He was tired – had been working double time the last few days, making sure everything was in order, but tomorrow-

Tomorrow it would all be over.

He'd be lying if he said he wasn't completely bloody terrified, but if anything these days of waiting, leading up to the big hit, almost didn't feel real, like it hadn't fully hit him yet that he'd be going in with the others. There was a nervous energy through the whole house but it seemed to almost slide off his back, like part of him still felt like it wasn't actually going to happen.

Dan frowned. “You should get some sleep. Big day tomorrow. I'm on first watch.”

“I'll walk up with you.” He gathered up his things, Dan waiting for him patiently before heading out of the garage with him, close by his side. When they reached the doorway to the living room Dan paused, his eyes falling on Michael and Ray – sitting on the couch – before he turned back to Gavin.

“You'll be wanting to talk to them,” he said. There was something careful in his voice. “Before tomorrow.”

Gavin bit his lip. It was true, none of them had spent much time with each other over the last few days. They'd all been too busy. But he did want to, now – just in case, in case they didn't get another chance and-

_Don't think about that._

He nodded and a small smile tugged at the side of Dan's mouth. He reached out and pulled Gavin into a sudden hug; Gavin flailed a little in surprise before he hugged back, arms coming up around Dan's back.

“Fuck, but once I would have been trying to convince you not to do this. That the two of us could cut and run and leave Ramsey to his own business,” Dan said. “But you... you need this, I can see, and they need you – you're lucky, you know.”

“I know,” Gavin replied, and Dan pushed him back by the shoulders, grinned down at him.

“But they're luckier, nabbing you.”

Gavin gaped at him for a minute before laughing.

“Who are you and what have you done with Dan?”

“Shut up,” Dan scoffed, looking very embarrassed, “That's the only time you'll hear it from me, asshole, this is our bloody last-night-before-we-could-all-die talk. Now it's your turn to talk about how awesome _I_ am.”

“Look at him, Dan the man, with his big... soldier muscles, I don't know.”

“Soldier muscles!” Dan barked out a laugh and proceeded to strike a pose and dramatically flex.

Gavin shook his head. “You're terrible – oh God, don't duck-face – okay, stop now, that's too much. That's too much, be ashamed of yourself.”

Dan stopped from where he'd been going in to kiss his biceps. “Go on then, I'll see you in the morning. Go kiss your boyfriends goodnight.”

“I'll kiss _you_ goodnight in a minute and you won't like it,” Gavin shot back, and Dan pulled a mock-horrified face before fleeing out the front door to keep watch on the porch. They'd made enough noise that Michael and Ray stirred from the couch, looking up – Gavin wandered over to them. They hadn't been sleeping, not quite, but rather cuddling in silence on the sofa.

“How are you feeling Michael?” Gavin asked quietly as he approached.

Michael grinned up at him. “Better, boi, thanks for asking. I'm fine for tomorrow.”

Gavin smiled a bit. He'd seen Michael injured worse – the funfair sprang to mind immediately – but seeing him hurt in front of him while he could do nothing about it had been horrible, nightmare fuel of a much different sort, and he could only be glad that the damage had been minor and nearly completely healed by now.

Ray lifted the blanket they were under, a silent offer, but Gavin shook his head.

“I'm good thanks. You sleeping out here?”

Ray nodded. “Jack and Geoff have the other room.”

“I'm gonna try and convince Ryan to come in,” Gavin said, and Michael pulled a face.

“Good luck with that. He's out back, he's a bit...” he trailed off, but Gavin nodded, understanding what he meant.

_Broody_. They were so close, so close to getting Edgar now and it had to be getting to Ryan a bit – which was most of the reason why Gavin wanted to go find him now. Ryan had helped him before, when Andrew came back, and part of him wanted to return the favour now, to make sure the other man was alright. It couldn't be easy, being so close to what had been an obsessive goal of his for years.

“Don't sleep on your own if he won't come in,” Michael said, and Gavin nodded. He was the one to lean in to kiss them goodnight; it was brief but grounding and he liked how much easier it was becoming, a casual sort of certainty to it as they got more and more used to what they were doing.

Despite what he'd just agreed to, part of him didn't want to intrude on the two of them on the couch. It sort of felt like despite everything, the relationship still hadn't started _properly_ yet – that was something that could only happen once Edgar was gone and done with, he felt. And tonight, this last night, he sort of thought Michael and Ray needed to be together, just the two of them, the way it was in the old days. That that would be more helpful in relaxing them, reassuring them, then dredging up all these new things. The same with Jack and Geoff.

Which left he and Ryan, neither of whom should probably be alone.

Ryan was standing out on the back deck, arms folded, staring up at the sky. Gavin came up next to him. Part of him almost expected Ryan to ignore him, he wasn't sure why – he'd just been quiet the last few days – but to his delight Ryan glanced at him and then dropped an arm down over his shoulders, pulling him a bit closer.

“It's cloudy,” Gavin observed, mindlessly.

Ryan gave a little 'hm' of agreement.

“Ring around the moon means rain, I've heard,” he replied – Gavin followed his gaze up to the moon. Partially obscured by the clouds, there was a faint blurry glow around it. He scoffed.

“Or that your eyesight's going.”

Ryan laughed and Gavin couldn't help but smile. He leaned in against Ryan's side, glad that he seemed okay.

“Everyone else asleep yet?” Ryan asked.

“Dan's on watch. The others are getting there. You should sleep too.”

“In a bit. Don't know how much rest I'll actually get tonight.” A little pause as they acknowledged the truth of the words; Gavin didn't know how his own night terrors might act up given what they were doing tomorrow. He'd been sleeping a lot better lately, a combination of Dan's return and knowing Andrew was dead.

“Are you scared?” he blurted out. Wasn't sure where it came from.

Ryan was quiet a long moment but he didn't pull his arm away from Gavin's shoulders, and after a moment he reached up and took his mask off. Gavin stared up at him, surprised but pleased by just how open he was being.

“Once I would have just been _angry_. But yes, I'm scared. I'm scared for all of you, and I'm scared for me because of you.”

Gavin bit his lip, not quite sure what to say. He'd never been the best at this.

“You know they say it's more brave to be scared of something and still do it than not be scared at all.” It was lame but it was all he had – after a minute Ryan shook his head.

“I don't need to be brave. I just need to kill the bastard.”

Gavin stayed quiet, unsure, but Ryan rubbed his arm until he looked up at him again.

“You didn't kill Andrew.” There was something hesitant in Ryan's voice, like the words were hard for him to get out – like they'd been building up unsaid for a while.

Gavin let out a breath. He'd been wondering when this was going to get brought up and it seemed now was the time.

Back at the warehouse something had just – snapped; seeing Andrew hurt Michael, threaten Jack – it wasn't just about him anymore, it had been the kick he needed to think _no, that's it, I've had enough_ – it had all come rushing out then. No more being the victim.

But he hadn't killed him. Hadn't gone that far.

“No. I didn't.”

Ryan was very silent and Gavin knew what he was thinking. This time it was him who nudged Ryan until he looked down.

“It wasn't like that. I wasn't trying to – to be the better man, or whatever. God no. I was... it was the opposite to what you just said. I wasn't scared in that moment, I was angry. I was just – _done_ , I was done with it all. I didn't need to kill him, I just needed to – to cut it off there, on my own terms. It was over already by that point, or at least I wanted it to be, so I made that choice. But it's not over for you, and that's okay, you know. What's good for me might not be good for you. The situations are different.”

“You don't regret it? Not being able to take revenge on him?”

“Well, I did beat the shit out of him first,” Gavin laughed a bit, and Ryan let out a little scoff.

“That you did. Well done, by the way.”

“Thanks. I was right proud of it.” A pause. “But like I said. I have my closure. But if you need to kill Edgar to get yours, that's what we'll do.”

Ryan's arm dropped from around his shoulders to grab his hand instead, squeezing gently – Gavin squeezed back, turning to face him. He could see the faint worry still in Ryan's eyes – the fear – and reached up, clasping his face in his hands and pulling him down to kiss him. Ryan hesitated a moment and Gavin paused, staring to pull back a little, but a moment later hands came down to rest on his waist, tugging him back in. Ryan's hands were strong but gentle as they held him in place and Gavin closed his eyes, lost in the warmth of Ryan's body on his against the brisk night chill.

They pulled apart after a minute but Gavin didn't step back, just let his hands drop to Ryan's shoulders instead.

“You know,” he said, thoughtfully, “You're different now. Than you were at the start.”

“Trust me, no one knows that more than I do,” Ryan started, something self deprecating in it, but Gavin shushed him.

“No, I was going to say – but you're not _super_ different, it was – it was always there, this whole time, you...”

He couldn't find the words to express it but Ryan seemed to understand. _You looked out for me_ , or something like that, because it was true that he'd never been scared of Ryan, not really, there had always been something in the way the other man looked at him, interacted with him. It had made it easy to trust him-

It had made it easy to _fall_ for him-

Ryan looked away, seeming almost embarrassed, but Gavin reached up to turn his face back towards him.

“Don't get shy, you pleb, it's not a bad thing.”

“I know,” Ryan replied, and sighed a bit. “It's certainly been a trip.”

“You can say that again. It'll all be over tomorrow, though, for better or worse.” It sunk in a little, then, standing out here with Ryan the two of them, the thought that tomorrow everything they'd been working towards for months now – years for Ryan – would come to a head. “We might all die.”

“We might,” Ryan agreed. “I hope not, though, Jesus Gav. I thought you were an optimist.”

“See, I never understood that glass half full thing versus glass half empty,” Gavin said. “It depends whether you filled the glass up or just drank from it.”

“You... are incapable of staying on one topic for more than a minute, aren't you,” Ryan huffed, and Gavin grinned a bit.

“Excuse you. I'm very focused when I need to be. It's part of my job. Speaking of which, I know you and Ray have been...”

He trailed off a bit, seeking a word, but Ryan was already laughing.

“How does that have anything to do with your job?”

“Because! Reasons! Didn't I tell you once I used to be hired to – it doesn't matter, point is I can tell when people have been doing the do. It's like the world's most awkward superpower.”

Ryan was shaking his head now, still chuckling softly.

“What?” Gavin asked, a little flustered.

“Nothing,” Ryan said, and ruffled his hair. “Just, you're really something.”

Gavin squawked, ducking away from his hand. He felt a little awkward now, like he'd deviated from his point too much, but he was glad to see Ryan smiling, to know he'd at least taken his mind off tomorrow a bit.

“Anyway,” he said quickly, the words coming out in a rush because he'd never been confident when it came to asking for what he wanted. “If you want we... I don't know. We might die tomorrow.”

Ryan was very quiet a moment. Then he said, “Are you asking to sleep with me?”

Gavin felt his face grow furiously warm, because _maybe? I think so?_ It wasn't like he'd come out here with that in mind but standing out here with Ryan, the rest of their band paired off inside the house, knowing that this could be the last night they ever spent together-

Remembering the path they had taken to get here. All the moments when he was getting to know Ryan when he felt something, some connection that drew him to the other man like a moth to a flame. Their first kiss at the Corpirate's mansion. The time afterwards in Ryan's kitchen. He felt that tug again now, that urge, and in lieu of replying he reached up and grabbed the front of Ryan's jacket, pulling him forward again.

Their mouths met with an uncomfortable clash of teeth but Ryan quickly moved to angle Gavin's face into a better position, fingers tangling in his hair as he held his head in place almost desperately.

When they pulled apart this time they were both breathless; Ryan grinned at Gavin, something wider and more exhilarated than he'd ever seen on the other man's face before, and Gavin smiled back.

“Is that a yes then?” he asked, and Ryan rolled his eyes.

“Yes, Gavin, it's a yes.”

Gavin's smile only grew bigger at that. His heart was slamming wildly in his chest and he took a few deep breaths, trying to calm down at least a little – _don't rush this_ – he turned away from Ryan, opening the door so he at least had a few minutes to gather himself as they headed quickly down the corridor to the bedroom.

Ryan didn't give him much time; as soon as the door had shut behind them he was surging forward again, hands on Gavin's hips as he walked him back and practically pushed him onto the bed; Gavin bit his lip as a spark shot through him at Ryan's sheer _strength_ , the ease with which he manhandled Gavin up against the mattress.

It was too dark in the room, dim moonlight filtering in but not enough to properly see each other by, and Ryan stretched out an arm, fumbling to switch on the lamp on the bedside table. He paused then, and silence fell over them, broken only by their breaths. Gavin stared up at Ryan, hovering over him – an odd nervousness grew in his stomach as he lay flat on his back against the bed.

It felt strange to be here now, the last few months all a whirl. His eyes tracked over Ryan’s face – drank in the details, his eyes, dark with want, arm twitching a little where he was holding himself up over Gavin – he couldn't help but smile. Ryan looked softer in the dull yellow lamplight, like all his harsh edges had been smoothed away, the exhaustion and stress of the last few days seeming to fade a little.

“Okay?” Ryan asked, and Gavin nodded.

“Are _you_ sure about this?” he asked then – figured he ought to check, but Ryan just smiled.

“Like you said,” he said, “We might all be dead tomorrow.”

“So the motto here is 'fuck while we have the chance'?”

“Basically,” Ryan replied – seemed to find it easier to make light of the situation – but then shook his head. “No, I... Gav, you and the others... you've helped more than you know. All of you. Its easy to want things like revenge, it drives you, but it – it means a lot more to want _this_ , for this to work out.” A pause. “So this isn't about Edgar. Let's not think about him right now.”

“He's the last damn thing I want to be thinking about,” Gavin grumbled. “Way to kill the mood, Ryan.”

“Sorry, sorry. Would it help if I took my shirt off?”

“Yes,” Gavin replied, a little too quickly – Ryan laughed, sitting up a bit as he slid his jacket off his shoulders before taking his gun off his belt and laying that on the table too – he stripped his shirt off rather unceremoniously, chucking it aside and leaning in to kiss Gavin again before he could even get a proper look.

“No fair,” Gavin choked out – Ryan kept surging in to slant their mouths together, pressing him down into the mattress before pulling back again, barely giving him time to get a breath in before the cycle repeated itself; at Gavin's words he scoffed out a laugh and drew back properly, teeth catching Gavin's bottom lip and tugging slightly as he pulled away.

“Let me look at you a spell,” Gavin demanded, only to laugh and roll his eyes when Ryan sat up and flexed his biceps. “Stop! You're worse than Dan.”

He reached up, fingers tracing almost reverently down Ryan's chest; his skin was littered with scars, he recognised a few knife wounds, what looked like it had once been a bad burn. Raised lines of untold stories under Gavin's fingertips.

Ryan shivered a bit as Gavin's hands moved lower, running down his stomach. He pulled Gavin upright, scooting back a bit to give him room to shrug off his own jacket. Gavin could barely concentrate on what he was doing, fingers shaky on the zipper of his hoodie as Ryan pressed a kiss to his lips then started across his jaw, down his neck, alternating between gentle brushes so light they made him shiver and pauses to latch on and suck, just hard enough that he knew they'd leave marks. He thought of Ray suddenly, in this same position, Ryan's lips against his skin and strong hands roaming over his body – let out a soft gasp that made Ryan pull back and chuckle.

“Having trouble there?”

Gavin shook his head but Ryan helped him pull his jacket off anyway and tossed it off the side of the bed. His hands went to the hem of Gavin's shirt and he paused; the movement made Gavin freeze.

He'd half hoped they'd get in enough of a frenzy that he'd forget about the scars, that or it would be dark enough for them to be unable to be seen, but neither of those things had happened and much as he liked this, this slower but still heated pace, it meant there was more time for him to think and second guess.

“You can keep this on if you want,” Ryan said quietly, but Gavin shook his head. Because he was nervous, sure, his heart was slamming in his chest but Ryan's close proximity, the warmth he could feel radiating off the other's body in the cool room and the heat of his hand resting on Gavin's leg were distracting him enough that he could pretend that the pressure rising up in his chest nearly enough to make him lightheaded was from arousal, excitement.

And Dan was out there, keeping watch, the others too, and the knowledge that they were here, that he was safe, was somewhat calming. It was like he'd told the others, when he handed the gun to Dan. _The rest is just me._ His turn to take another leap of faith, to push to get over this.

Before he could overthink it he pulled his shirt over his head. It was his natural reaction to retreat immediately, to shy away a bit and start to wrap his arms around himself, but Ryan grabbed his wrists and pulled his hands down to his sides.

“Shh, come on, it's okay.”

Despite his earlier courage Gavin couldn't quite meet his eyes, fighting the urge to press back against the wall. He could feel Ryan's eyes running over him and struggled not to grab his shirt and cover himself up again. The scars on his back were worse and there were more of them, but the ones on his chest always seemed more visible because they cut through the amount of hair there. They were impossible to ignore.

Ryan let go of his wrists and held out a hand, hovering just over Gavin's skin. “Okay to touch?”

Gavin shrugged, then when Ryan shot him a stern look, gave a jerking nod. There was something fierce in the other man's eyes, something intense like he still wished he could kill the people who’d done this even if they were both already gone and done with. His hand settled flat on Gavin's stomach, thumb brushing over the largest of the marks; Gavin fought not to tense up.

“I have scars too you know,” Ryan said, almost conversationally. “If you hadn't noticed.”

“Yeah, but yours are different,” Gavin replied, “You got them in fights and stuff-”

He broke off with a squeak when Ryan grabbed his shoulders, leaning in close.

“Don't you ever say that what you went through wasn't just as much of a fight,” Ryan said, voice low, urgent – “Or that you're anything but strong for getting through it. It's easy for me, gathering these injuries, pushing through them, like you said before, that's not bravery. Bravery is you, okay, it's getting back on your feet again, it's fucking _showing me these_ – that's progress. That's you _winning_. Okay?”

Gavin nodded, unable to form words, and Ryan softened a little, his grip easing up as he leaned in and pressed their foreheads together.

“You're not damaged goods or whatever the fuck you're thinking,” he said. “Any more than I am. Okay?”

“Alright,” Gavin replied. And then, “Can we, uh, get on with things then?”

Ryan laughed and leaned forward to press their lips together again; the kiss was rough, claiming, and Gavin pushed at Ryan's shoulders until he fell back against the bed, crawling up on top of him. Ryan's hands clutched at his waist, fingers digging in against his hipbones hard enough to just brush the edge of pain; Gavin liked that, that Ryan wasn't treating him like he was breakable, that he knew he was strong enough to take whatever he threw at him. He leaned in to kiss Ryan frantically, let the worry about his scars fall away and soon managed to nearly forget them entirely.  


* * *

  
If Gavin had dreams he did not remember them. Even without medication he slept through the night – a combination of the exhaustion of working such long hours the last few days and the blissful haze of being curled up against Ryan in the warmth of the bed.

When he woke up he was a little disoriented; it was very, very dark outside but the lamp was on and he could hear faint noise out in the rest of the house. He sat up a bit, groggy, and realised he was alone in the bed, that it was morning – and a ridiculously early hour.

A noise on the other end of the room had him turning to see Ryan; he was standing facing the mirror on the other side of the room, doing something to his face. Gavin pushed the blankets away and shivered – it was freezing – groped about on the floor until he found his jacket and pulled it on, locating his jeans as well and yanking them up before he came to stand next to Ryan.

“What are you doing?”

Ryan glanced over at him and Gavin did a double take; there was black paint smeared around his eyes.

“Ryan, why are you a raccoon Ryan?”

“Good morning to you too, Gavin,” Ryan replied – there was a nervous energy to him that made Gavin frown. As the haze of sleep faded away he realised that this was it, today was the day, and suddenly felt a bit sick. He pushed it away, though, his usual _just don’t think about it_ mentality kicking in. It worked, at least for now when they were still just here alone in the bedroom, and he reached out and took up one of the small pots of face paint that were sitting on the shelf near Ryan.

“You're painting your face.”

“Yes,” Ryan replied. He had a paintbrush and all, Gavin realised, and frowned a bit.

“Why?”

“On missions where there's a chance my mask could come off and I could be recognised I like to take the precaution. Keeps my identity safe.”

“Oh. That's clever.”

Ryan shot him a small smile before continuing with what he was doing. After a time Gavin moved off to get dressed himself before returning and settling on a chair to watch Ryan. There was something methodical in the way he swiped the paint over his face, covering it with streaks of red, white and black. Finally he set the brush down and turned towards Gavin; his eyes widened a bit. There was something unsettling about his painted up face. He didn't look much like himself anymore, something very sinister about it. He was used to human Ryan now, Ryan without the mask. But this was worse than the mask because it was still his face, under it all, but removed from the person Gavin knew, stepping perilously back towards mad mercenary territory.

“You look a bit scary,” Gavin said finally, but when Ryan smiled that lit up his face a bit, made him look less inhuman.

“That's sort of what I'm going for.”

“You look like a Sith lord.”

Ryan laughed. He was mostly dressed but moved to pull his jacket on, picking up his knife and strapping it into his belt again.

“Come on. Everyone else is up by now.”  


* * *

  
“You look like Darth Maul,” was the first thing Dan said upon entering the room to sit next to Gavin and catching sight of Ryan's unmasked face.

“That's what I said!” Gavin cried excitedly, “Like a bloody Sith lord.”

He reached to high five Dan and nearly knocked over his glass of juice; no one was feeling particularly hungry that morning but they had sat down to eat quickly anyway. Going into any job on an empty stomach was a bad idea. The last thing anyone needed in the middle of a firefight was low blood sugar.

Around the table the others snickered, but Gavin glanced about at them and could tell they were all nervous. He was too, a low churn in his gut that made it hard for him to force down the bit of toast he was eating. Even Ryan had gotten quieter as the time ticked down towards their leaving to confront Edgar.

He felt Dan's hand on his shoulder suddenly and half-turned to face him; Dan was frowning, trying to pull Gavin's collar down.

“Is that a bruise on your neck?” he asked, and Gavin pulled away immediately.

“No,” he said – too quickly, his face flushing a bit, because he saw the realisation hit Dan before his friend _laughed_ at him, seeming to sense his embarrassment.

“Finally ended your dry streak then, B?” Dan asked, and across the table Michael hooted. Gavin didn't think it was possible for his face to get any redder.

“Shut the hell up, Dan,” Gavin replied, because that was sort of embarrassingly true. Before last night it had been a very long while. He could feel all the others looking at him now and felt a little on the spot, but a minute later Ray, sat on his other side, reached over and squeezed his hand under the table. He looked over and exchanged a smile with the other man, and the topic was dropped quickly after that; they had more important things on their minds.

They had about an hour to prepare before they had to get going and it was a mad rush of making sure everything was in place; distributing weapons and body armour, going over the plans one final time, calling up everyone back in AC to make sure Edgar hadn't pulled some move in the night that would surprise them.

“Gavin,” Jack called him over – he looked up from where he'd been checking the maps again, trying to ignore the nerves brewing in the pit of his stomach. Jack was holding up a kevlar vest and Gavin went over to him, stripping off his jacket so he could put it on underneath.

“You're sure you want to do this?” Jack asked in a low tone as he pulled the straps tight on the side of the vest.

Gavin looked down at him and nodded, surprised; Jack had been the one to support him at the outset, after all.

“I'm sure,” he replied. “I'd probably feel worse if I knew you were all going off without me, to be honest.”

Jack smiled a bit. “Okay then.” He straightened up and handed Gavin a gun and a knife. “Just in case. Safety's on on that, remember.”

Gavin nodded. The gun felt heavy in his hand and Jack looked at it for a moment, then at Gavin. He gave a tired sort of sigh.

“I don't like the look of you all armoured up like this.”

“What, I don't look badass?” Gavin asked, and Jack grinned, though there wasn't much humour in it.

“No. You don't belong in the field. I don't like that we're bringing you out. But we're sticking to the plan and I know you'll do just fine.” He reached out and squeezed Gavin's shoulder and he remembered, suddenly, Jack's words of a few nights ago – _love you_ – the way they'd just sort of... slipped out, like it was the easiest thing in the world.

It had been overwhelming at the time but looking back on it now it made something warm spread through his chest, something pleasant, and though it was terrifying to admit to something so big he had the sudden urge to say it to the other man now – to all of them – just in case he never got another chance.

But he couldn't force the words out and all he could do was bring his own hand up over Jack's, squeezing lightly before they both turned away.

Before he even knew it they were locking up the house, bags packed with the few things they needed to bring with them, standing out by the cars. The nerves were a lead block in Gavin's stomach now; his hands were shaking a little but it wasn't overwhelming, not with Dan close by his side and the knowledge that he wouldn't be doing anything on his own through the entire plan. It was the thought of being parted from the others that was getting to him; he and Dan would meet up with Michael later on but otherwise, unless something went terribly wrong, they wouldn't see the other four until after things were all over and done with.

An odd silence overtook them as it seemed to sink in that this was it, this was what they'd been working towards for months now. Gavin had been on heists and jobs before but rarely out in the field and it had never felt like this, never so sombre.

Michael and Ray were holding hands, he noticed, and though Ryan was off to the side, mask on, he was looking at each of them in turn as though drinking in and memorising their faces.

Geoff cleared his throat.

“I'm not gonna say goodbye to you all,” he announced, “Because that's fucking stupid. We're all gonna see each other after this. Fuck, we've even got the earpieces and all. But I suppose some sort of grand battle speech is in order so... good luck. I'm proud of you all. We made it this far so let's finish it and then drinks are on me, okay?”

“Hear hear,” Michael said, pumping a fist in the air.

“See you on the other side then.” Geoff stepped forward and kissed Michael, quickly – kept it brief – Jack moved up after him, then Ray. Gavin fidgeted, waiting for his turn – it was over too soon, that swift brush of lips. Everything seemed to be moving too fast now, and before he knew it he was following Dan over to their car and the house was vanishing out of sight behind them.

 

* * *

  
Stealth was a key part of the operation, at least at the beginning, and Gavin's heart was pounding as he and Dan sat in their car just beyond the fence surrounding the building. He could hear Michael in the earpiece, quietly keeping them updated on what he was doing as he planted explosives around the vehicles in Edgar's garage; he'd taken down one man on guard already with a single silenced shot and Gavin thought they were clear so far; no one else had come investigating.

The abattoir was an older building, one larger structure rather than the separate stations and facilities of modern ones. It had a bad feel about it that Gavin disliked immediately; that dark imposing edifice in the middle of patchy forest and farmland. He could see a few smaller pens and sheds around the place, their windows boarded up.

“Okay,” Michael said finally. “The charges are planted, I'm heading around the back now. Gav, Dan, I'll meet you two at the back door. Once I blow this the rest of you come in around the front, cause enough commotion that we can get in without too many people noticing.”

“Got it,” Geoff said. “Dan, you're up.”

Dan grabbed his gun and glanced over at Gavin.

“You ready, B?”

Gavin swallowed. He took a deep breath – in, out, counted it for three seconds before steadying himself and nodding. Dan squeezed his arm before opening the car door and getting out.

There were no visible guards keeping watch on the exterior of the building – likely due to the fact that they'd taken out so many of Edgar's men by now that he didn't have enough left. They got from the car to the fence swiftly and Dan took out a pair of wire cutters, clipping out a section before bending it open and ushering Gavin through before squeezing in himself.

Gavin liked the look of the abattoir even less close up. There was an aura about it that made him feel uneasy. The dark tinted windows did not help. As they walked around towards the back door they passed several large dumpsters and Gavin got a sudden whiff of a terrible smell that made him retch so hard his stomach twisted and he had to stuff his wrist into his mouth and bite down to keep from gagging too loudly.

“Fuck,” Dan hissed, smelling it too. “Christ that's rank.”

Gavin couldn't even reply, tears springing to his eyes as he tried desperately not to breathe in. Dan scanned the area and pointed.

“It's coming from over there.”

Gavin followed his gaze and frowned as his eyes fell upon a great pit in the ground by the side of the building. He didn't want to think about what might be in there and turned away, following Dan up as they continued through the yard area until they reached the back door of the building where they pressed themselves against the wall. Gavin's heart was thundering; that bad smell had thrown him off and he felt tremendously unsettled. He was very relieved when Michael came into view around the side of the building.

“All good,” he said, jogging to a halt next to them. He met Gavin's eyes and gave him a small smile but was quickly focused on talking into the earpiece. “Everyone ready?”

“Yeah,” Geoff said. “Let's do this, people."

“Okay.” Michael pulled a remote detonator out of his pocket and triggered it; an explosion from around the other side of the building rocked the ground under them. Gavin pressed back against the wall, the shock of the noise making him jump a little.

“That's the vehicles down,” Michael said.

“Okay,” Geoff replied, “We're moving in now.”

Everything seemed to happen very fast after that. There came a great commotion from the other side of the slaughterhouse as the other four went to cause a distraction – several smaller explosions rang out followed by gunfire as, it seemed, the guards finally showed up where the others were causing a visible stir. Between that and the garage there was enough of a diversion for Michael to usher the others back, plant a breaching charge on the back door and blow their way in.

The next thing Gavin knew, he was following the others into the building.

One piece of intel that they'd managed to dig up was the location of the control room; it wasn't far from this door, down one corridor and up a flight of stairs towards a more administrative area, this ground level being the slaughterhouse floor. It was terrible inside, though. Edgar had obviously rebuilt and repurposed a lot of the abattoir building but the inside now seemed dark – the ceiling was painted black, the walls of the hallway they were in made of an industrial metal and the whole place lit by harsh fluorescent lighting. It was also freezing, air conditioners turned on full blast in a way that made the whole place feel sort of... refrigerated; Gavin shoved down thoughts of the pantry at the restaurant he'd last encountered Edgar in. O _kay. You're okay. Dan and Michael are here_.

The sound of gunfire still rang out, distant from the other end of the building and through their earpieces.

“Half a dozen guards out here,” Ryan grunted. “We've got cover, though. They're out through the front.”

“Got it. We seem to be fine here for the moment,” Michael replied, and gestured for Dan to take the lead as they headed towards the stairs.

Gavin walked between the other two; close behind Dan's back. They moved so fast that he barely caught a glimpse of their surroundings as they passed through them, but he probably couldn't have taken in much anyway, distracted as he was by how _scared_ he was.

It had been different outside. In here he felt trapped; it was oppressive and too cold and _Edgar is in this building somewhere_ and-

And all he could do was focus on the two others here with him. The intent concentration knit in Michael’s brow, the way Dan had gotten quieter, more serious. Both of them seemed to know exactly what they were doing and despite his fear, that was reassuring. They were doing their part and all he had to do was his.

They reached the top of the stairs only for a shout to come from the other end of the corridor. A man rounded the corner, gun raised as he already began to yell, trying to raise the alarm, but Dan lifted his gun and shot him square in the head, dropping him immediately. There was enough noise and commotion going on in the earpiece that Gavin barely flinched at the gunshot.

“Control room's this way,” Michael said; it was just down the corridor. The door was shut and Gavin knew whoever was inside would have seen what was going on, would probably be on their guard. Michael pushed him back against the wall beside the door, motioning for him to stay still. He himself stepped back, gun at the ready, before nodding at Dan who broke the door down in two hefty kicks. As soon as it swung open Michael was charging forward; Gavin heard him fire off two shots before he stepped back out and beckoned them in.

“All clear.”

“You guys in?” Geoff asked – sounded a little distracted; there were still sounds of commotion and gunfire on his head, the occasional chatter of the other three talking amongst themselves as they worked around each other.

“Yeah,” Michael said.

Gavin stepped into the room, Dan right behind him. It was quite small, a deck of monitors taking up most of one wall before which a control panel lay. The woman who had been manning the screens lay dead on the floor, gun fallen from her hand; Gavin averted his eyes as he sat down and quickly made sense of the controls.

“I can see you, Geoff,” he said, eyes scanning over the screens as he tried to get his head around the layout of the building, work out what led where. “Give me a minute and I'll be able to guide you in.”

“Can you see Edgar?” Ryan demanded.

“One second,” Gavin replied. “Give me a chance to actually look.”

Michael and Dan had shut the door but with the lock broken it wouldn't close properly; Dan had his gun trained at the entrance and Gavin noticed there was a security camera on the hall outside anyway. They'd see anyone coming.

He closed his eyes briefly, letting out a long stream of breath. _You're here. Okay._ Just as the others seemed able to push aside their fear, their worries to get into the zone and fight, shoot, _kill_ with professional ease, so he thought to himself _this is my job, I just have to do it_ – he was one of the best at this, after all – _it's just a job_.

Michael’s hand descended on his shoulder, squeezing gently; he opened his eyes and looked up at the other man.

“Know what you're doing?” Michael asked – something gentle in his eyes despite the fact that he'd just shot a woman – Gavin looked back at him and nodded firmly.

“Yes,” he replied, and Michael squeezed his shoulder before his hand fell away. Gavin smiled briefly, and it was true – he knew what he was doing – he had a handle on this, and turning back to the control panel he got to work.  


* * *

  
“Ryan, where the fuck are you?” Geoff demanded, alarmed when he turned to check on the others and found him nowhere in sight.

“I'm near the doorway.”

“Don't go in yet,” Geoff ordered – and a moment later saw Ryan retreat back from where he'd been lurking in the entrance to the building. The sound of gunfire had died down; they'd taken down a half dozen men who'd come to stop them. With the aid of a few flash grenades Michael had given them, it hadn't been difficult to cause some confusion.

“Anyone else around, Gavin?” Geoff asked.

“Not out where you are,” Gavin replied. “I see some men down on the main floor, but you're gonna have to go through there and take them out to get deeper into the building.”

“Edgar?” Ryan prompted. “The pig?”

“There's an armoury on this second floor,” Gavin said. “The pig's in there with three other men. On the far side of the slaughter floor is an elevator leading to the admin area. There are no cameras there so I'm guessing that's where Edgar is.”

“Is it hard to get there?” Geoff asked.

“There's a deck around the slaughter floor. There are men up there who'll have good cover. You need to take them out first or they'll be able to pick you off. The floor itself is pretty confusing; there's a lot of stuff in there but I can guide you through it.”

“Okay,” Geoff said. He stepped up towards the entrance and Jack and Ray moved out from their cover to join them, looking grim and determined. “I'm ready when you are, Gav.”

“Ready,” Gavin replied quietly. “Soon as you get in take cover; there's a lot of storage crates and some walls. Try and spread out.”

“Got it.” Geoff glanced at the others and then jerked his head towards the door. “Move in.”

Geoff did not get nervous on jobs and heists much, he was a veteran at those things, but this was different. He'd pushed it down so far, focused on keeping his calm and leading the others, but for a moment when they stepped into the abattoir his resolve crumbled a little. He was taken aback by just how huge the main space was.

Edgar had stripped out most of the production and service modules on the main floor; what remained was an expansive warehouse space cordoned into sections. There were several rooms off to the sides but this main area seemed to be used for storage. The lairage pens were full of stacked crates, cordoned off in different sections; he caught sight of ordnance, what he presumed were commercial quantities of various illegal substances, smuggled goods – he didn't doubt Edgar had other warehouses around the country where he stashed most of his things, but here, it seemed, he kept the rest of it.

The room was too big and too dark, he couldn't see what else was around them but he moved off, trusting Gavin to guide them through, ducking back behind a storage unit.

What happened next was beautiful.

Geoff had pulled a lot of jobs. Sometimes everything went wrong and sometimes everything went right; these latter were few and far between but when they did happen there was something exhilarating in it, in things going off without a hitch, in executing the motions of a plan with smooth ease.

It seemed like there were a lot of men shooting down at them, Geoff figured eight to ten, and they had the high ground, his people were at a disadvantage – as soon as they realised they had entered the building a great commotion arose, a thunderstorm of noise and chaos. Getting shot at was like that; you never quite got used to it, to the crack of air pressure changing around you as bullets whipped past.

But Gavin guided them.

It was seamless, the way he somehow managed to juggle between the four of them. “Ryan, behind you,” and “Ray, shoot now, three o'clock,” and “Geoff, get back down – now go,” “Jack, run to the next storage unit.”

They trusted him enough to obey instantly and Geoff found himself falling into that smooth execution, trusting his movements to Gavin's command, like a weapon being pointed in the right direction, registering in his peripheral vision the movements of the others around him. One by one the men above them fell as they moved fluidly together in and out of cover, like cogs in a well oiled machine. It was something he'd never felt with the usual bunch of hired guns he pulled up for jobs, this was different, they were a proper crew, a _team_.

Silence fell as the last man dropped under one of Ray's bullets. Geoff paused, catching his breath as he reloaded his weapon.

“Gav? That the last of them?” Jack asked.

“Yeah,” Gavin replied.

“That was fun,” Ray piped up. “Gotta say it's a lot easier having someone tell me exactly where to shoot. Saves me risking getting my head blown off looking for the target.”

“How do we get to the elevator?” Ryan demanded, impatiently; Geoff could hardly fault him. They were so close to Edgar by now. He looked around, but couldn't see the lift. There was too much stuff around.

“Fastest way is through the corrals,” Gavin replied.

Geoff glanced over. Edgar had stripped out a lot of the slaughter tools but the metal walls of the corrals were still there, curving gently towards the butchery area on the other side of the room. He gathered himself and walked over, the others meeting him along the way as they stepped in. The metal was painted a garish orange and when they stepped inside and began to walk he couldn't help but feel a little trapped; this empty fenced off tube with only one way to go, shuffling along like literal animals to the slaughter.

“Everything okay on you guys' end?” Jack asked.

“Fine,” Michael replied. “Pig's still in the- Gavin what the fuck is that?”

The four of them glanced at one another in alarm.

“What?” Geoff demanded. “What's going on-”

A faint noise caught his attention, starting up from outside the corral in the main floor area. It took him a moment to place what it was, it seemed so out of place.

Dogs.

Barks and growls carrying across towards him and-

“Shit, they didn't have cams on that room – guys, they've let out about five dogs from a room out on the main floor, they're heading towards you now,” Gavin said, alarm in his tone.

“Great,” Ray muttered, “He really is the animal king.”

“They're coming in from the other side of the corral, they're fast, be careful,” Gavin began, but he barely got a chance to say more before the sounds of the approaching animals got louder.

Here was the thing, men were slow, men were not usually so agile; the dogs were much, much faster than Geoff had anticipated; they were upon them almost immediately. All he caught was a flash of dark fur before a half dozen great beasts were lunging towards them. He had his gun up automatically, firing off several shots.

One dog went down under the hail of their combined bullets but he saw Ryan go down next to him and as he turned towards him, alarmed, another of the dogs leaped onto him.

For a moment, sheer panic. A heavy weight on his chest and horrible hot wet breaths against his face, stinking of off meat; his arm came up automatically to shield his neck and it saved his life, his elbow braced against the dog's gullet just preventing its teeth from snapping at his face, but it was a _big_ animal and he was crushed under its weight and barely holding it off him-

A knife flashed at the edge of his vision, burying itself through the dog's eye, driving into its skull. With a screaming whine it slumped sideways and Geoff turned to see Jack, rolling the heavy body off him before he stepped up in front of Geoff, gun raised to shoot one of the remaining animals.

Geoff scrambled to his feet, breathing heavily. The wind had been knocked out of him and he'd gotten a nasty fright, but he was okay. Quickly came back to his senses and turned to Ryan to find him getting to his feet; Ray had helped him, another of the dogs lay dead on the ground beside him and the two of them were already shooting at the rest.

It took more bullets than Geoff liked, but with Gavin and Michael having warned them the dogs were coming, they had been quick enough to take them out before they could get too badly jumped, and before long all five of the animals were lying dead on the ground.

Geoff's heart was hammering from the close call; he turned to Ryan to see if he was okay and found him crouched by the dog that had attacked Geoff. He pulled Jack's knife out of its head and then smoothed its fur down in a surprisingly tender motion.

“Fuck that son of a bitch,” Ryan spat, anger in his tone.

Geoff stared at him, unsure what had provoked his anger. He stepped closer and noticed the way Ryan's gloved hands lingered over a raw ring around the dog's neck where a collar had been bound cruelly tight, the marks and scars marring the animal's flank. It had been easy to be overtaken by fear when they were being attacked but the dogs had obviously been forced into feral action, trained to attack by any cruel means necessary.

It was the sort of shit that happened in their world, he had seen it before, but there was something endearing to Ryan's outrage about it, something that humanised him even more in Geoff's eyes as he straightened up, handing the knife back to Jack before turning and striding wordlessly off down the corral.

“You guys okay?” Gavin asked quietly.

“We're fine,” Ray replied.

They continued on, and as they stepped out of the corral Geoff caught sight of the elevator doors a few metres ahead.

“There,” he said, “Let's go-”

A gunshot rang out and beside him Ray crumpled to the ground with a yell.

Geoff's heart nearly leapt out of his chest. The world was white noise around him as he snapped around, eyes searching frantically for the threat; it was Ryan who caught sight of the source of the shot first, sending a stream of fire up to the deck overhead. He couldn't get a clean shot, whoever was up there was hidden behind stacks of crates and the metal support beams keeping the deck up.

The blood was roaring in Geoff's ears; without even thinking about it he bent and snatched up Ray's grenade launcher from where it was strapped to his back. He stepped forward; aimed and fired in an instant and the blast rocked the deck, the crates exploding into shards of splintered wood. There was a scream and he saw dark blood splatter against the wall behind the rail.

_Got him._

“-Ray? Ray!”

Michael and Gavin were screaming into the earpiece; their voices swam back in now and Geoff's heart lurched in his chest as he turned to where Jack and Ryan were crouching over Ray. He strode to join them, dropping down next to him, Ray lay face down and there was blood spreading under him, dark and sticky across the tiled floor, but even as Geoff crouched down he started to push himself upright-

“My leg,” he ground out, voice tight with pain, “Relax, guys, it's just my fucking leg. Fuck. _Fuck._ ”

The rush of relief made Geoff's head spin it was so intense, but any gunshot wound was fucking bad no matter where it was; there were arteries that could have you bleeding out in an instant. Ryan was already cutting a strip off his shirt, tugging Ray upright – he cried out in pain as his leg bumped against the ground and the sound tugged at something in Geoff, something deep and painful-

“Ray's okay?” Gavin demanded, and Ray raised a shaking hand to thumbs-up the air around them, knowing Gavin could see.

“I'm fine.” But he was pale and trembling and Geoff looked down – the wound was dark and deep in the middle of his thigh and _fuck_ that had to hurt a hell of a lot-

“You need to go get Edgar,” Gavin said.

“What the fuck, Gav,” Michael snapped, panic undercutting his voice-

“He's right,” Ray croaked, “Can't stop the plan here. I'm not about to die, fucking go on and get him before he escapes!”

“We're not leaving you sitting here to bleed out,” Jack snapped.

Geoff let out a rush of breath because it was up to him, he was the leader, it was a decision he had to make in an instant because time was never on your side in jobs like this, you had to _keep moving keep moving keep moving-_

“Jack, Ryan, you go on,” he ordered. “I'll stay here and fix Ray up.”

It was the simplest choice; he hadn't much ammo left after the dogs and what had just happened, and Jack played better support than he did.

He half expected one or the other of them to argue but Jack glanced at him and nodded, not questioning his orders here, now when they needed to cooperate the most, and Ryan was already on his feet and striding towards the elevator, though Geoff didn't miss the concerned look he shot over his shoulder towards Ray. They didn't have time for fussing about.

“Ray,” Michael started again, sounding wrecked.

“I'm fine, Michael,” Ray grit out, but when Geoff picked up Ryan's makeshift bandage and leaned forward to put pressure on the wound he let out a gut wrenching cry and Geoff heard Gavin make a distressed sort of noise over the intercom, Dan murmuring something quiet to him that Geoff couldn't quite catch.

He tuned them out, focusing on getting the leg patched up as best he could – in and out from what he could see, and hadn't hit any arteries but you could never be _sure_ , all he could do was try and stop the bleeding, vaguely aware of Michael still talking to Ray over the comm, trying to keep him distracted. Gavin was as well, saying something to Ryan and Jack – there were sounds of gunfire coming from their end, likely more guards up on the second level. Geoff didn't register any of what was being said, absorbed in what he was doing.

He tied off the bandage and sat back; Ray's face was pale and clammy and Geoff grabbed his shoulders, steadying him.

“Okay?”

“Fucking peachy,” Ray said, but his voice was a little slurred and he slumped forward a bit, head resting against Geoff's shoulder in a moment of vulnerability that Geoff didn't like, not here and now in the middle of a mission. It spoke volumes about the amount of pain Ray must be in to give up that little measure of control out here in the field.

“I know you don't drink but I'm gonna need you to take a swig of this,” he said, pulling a flask out from his coat; Ray barked out a hoarse laugh but took it, downing a swallow before turning away to cough and gasp.

“That's fucking strong,” he spat, “And not just because I'm not used to it.”

“Helps with the pain, though,” Geoff said. Ray just coughed again, breathing harsh and ragged-

A loud shriek of static through the earpiece made both of them jolt in pain, Ray crying out when he inadvertently bumped his leg again.

“The fuck was that?” Dan demanded.

“It came from Ryan's end,” Gavin replied, “I can't – Ryan? Jack? Come in?”

Silence.

“No,” Geoff said, “No, no, they were just there-”

“The elevator hit the second storey fine, they got out but they're in the area with no cams,” Gavin said, voice shaking a little. “Jack? Ry?”

Nothing – and Ryan's earpiece had blown out, sure, but Jack's had disappeared now too and they hadn't called back in since getting off the elevator, Geoff realised, and he _knew_ then, somehow, innately, that something had happened, a feeling he'd gotten a few times before when Jack got himself into trouble – a sense he could trust, a gut feeling, that something was very, very wrong.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gumbaro on tumblr drew some [adorable raywood art](http://gumbaro.tumblr.com/post/107752762401/i-need-to-have-bigger-canvases) for the last chapter; thanks so much <3
> 
> I promise this is the last stupid cliffhanger in the whole story aha. Also, last Gavin and Geoff POVs! /cries


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is this chapter mostly fight scenes... yes, this chapter is mostly fight scenes. |D

The elevator doors opened to an explosion of smoke and gunfire.

Ryan didn't know what he'd been expecting. There were, after all, only a few ways up to this second level, and Edgar knew they were coming. As it was, he and Jack had taken the precaution of stepping to the sides of the elevator, the thin walls beside the doors giving them some cover, and when the bullets rang out they peppered the back wall of the lift harmlessly.

The smoke was another story.

Ryan could only be glad it wasn't tear gas, but it was a weak optimism. Two cannisters rolled down the hall towards them, billowing blinding black smoke. Not for the first time Ryan wished he had some sort of filtration system in his mask; it was little help. Within seconds both of them were choking and spluttering, his eyes burning to the point that he couldn't see.

“Ryan.” Gavin's voice in his ear was welcome, grounding in all the chaos. “I can't see up there but there should be a room you can get to. Left wall, a few metres down.”

“You hear that Jack?” Ryan shouted, and felt Jack reach out and squeeze his arm in acknowledgement.

Taking quick shallow breaths to avoid breathing in the smoke, he bided his time – waited for a break in the firing before stepping out of the lift and beginning his own onslaught. Fired continuously into the smoke clouding the corridor as he stuck to the left wall, heading down the hallway.

He couldn't see a fucking thing.

He could barely crack his eyes open, the smoke burned so much, but his hand closed around a door handle and he swung it open.

The room was thankfully empty and he stepped in, but moments later another smoke cannister was rolling down the hall and exploding, sending more thick clouds through the confined space of this floor. Ryan spied a window and hurried to pull it open. Stuck his head out and took deep, blessed gulps of fresh air.

He turned back to the room – he couldn't tell what it had been originally for but it now seemed to be filing storage – and tried to waft as much smoke out as possible.

“Jack?” he called out, as the room emptied and he noticed the other's absence.

Nothing over the earpiece, he realised, now that he was in a different room and the gunfire from outside had died down a little – he tapped it a few times.

“Jack?”

Nothing but dead air. Like he had just turned it off or taken it out.

He darted a glance out into the hall.

No sign of him.

There was still too much smoke, but cold fear gripped Ryan anyway because he'd thought – he'd thought Jack was right behind him, and he could still hear the occasional gunshot from out in the corridor. But nothing – the earpiece still dead, and... what? Had it fallen out somehow?

_Don't panic._

_Find Edgar._

All they could do now, really, was stick to the plan – because Ray was down too (and Jesus fuck do not think about Ray, do not think about how sick you felt, how you thought your heart stopped when you saw him fall-)

_Stick to the plan._

The smoke had cleared, a little, with the ventilation from the window, and when he looked out into the corridor again he could see a faint glow on the floor ahead.

_Trip mines_ , he realised. An idea struck him then, and without really thinking about it he raised his gun and fired at them.

Bad idea.

He'd thought to create a distraction but he hadn't realised quite how powerful the resulting blast would be. The force of it threw him back against the wall, head spinning a little – and the noise was so loud that it blew out his earpiece with a shriek of terrible static that had him desperately reaching up to claw it from his ear.

It fell free. He gathered himself and then pushed through the smoke down the hallway.

As he'd expected, the explosion had jarred the remaining gunmen at the end of the hall enough that he caught them off guard. He was a good enough shot even with his vision impaired that he took them down easily. There were only three – by his count Edgar should only have a few mercs remaining by this point. It had really paid off taking down so many of them along the way and investing in paying Joel off.

As the soldiers fell he paused to take stock of himself; catch his breath and reload his gun.

This was an admin area of the building. At the end of the hallway was a heavy industrial door. According to the vague plans Gavin had scrounged up, beyond was what had once been a hide and skin processing module. He wasn't sure what Edgar had turned that into.

_And Edgar_. _Edgar will be in there too._

There was still no sign of Jack, and tight fear coiled in Ryan's stomach. He had no idea where the fuck he'd gone – unless he'd headed back down in the elevator, or turned down the corridor towards the side of the building where Michael and the others were. But why should his earpiece be off?

_Or he's dead_.

No – the smoke was clearing more now and the only bodies in this hallway were the ones he'd just taken down.

Either way, he had no means of contacting the others now, not with his earpiece broken.

He was alone.

Here on the final stretch of his journey he was really, truly alone. And this was how he'd envisioned it, wasn't it, every night since he swore to kill Edgar? Himself up against the beast. This was how it would have been, if he hadn't gone and formed _attachments_ along the way.

Suddenly – suddenly he felt an odd sort of pang, a longing for the others' support – Jack there watching his back – Michael and Gavin in his ear – but he shoved it aside, hardening himself back into what he needed to be to get this done. Cold. Ruthless.

He'd worked alone before and he'd do it again now.

Steeling himself, he readied his gun, paused to grab another of the nearest fallen guards' semiautomatics as backups, and strode out through the heavy metal door at the end of the hallway.

The first thing he noticed was Edgar.

The second was Jack, in his grasp.

The door opened onto a railed off platform, overhanging part of the lower storey. Down below were several massive water tanks and a slew of drainage pipes and grills, obviously for disposal purposes. On the far side of this room was another platform, parallel to the one Ryan was standing on. Between these two were a series of rails, chains and pulleys, all of it remnants of this building's original purpose.

Ryan couldn't tell what Edgar used this part of his hideout for, but at the moment he couldn't care less; all he could focus on was the masked man standing on the far platform – and beside him, Jack, on his knees. There were two guards behind him, a man and a woman, their weapons trained squarely at Jack's head. Edgar himself had a gun in one hand and a long, wickedly sharp knife in the other.

Ryan couldn't breathe.

Jack was staring at him, eyes wide and apologetic and scared, underneath it all, and _fuck okay_ in the commotion of the smoke they must have grabbed him, and Ryan hadn't noticed, and this was worst case scenario, this was worst case _fucking_ scenario because Edgar had leverage now and-

“Hello, Ryan,” Edgar called out. He laughed.

Ryan's blood boiled; the anger that he'd kept built up for so long slammed back into him and for a moment, for a moment all he wanted to do was lift his gun and just unload on the man standing across from him. Because it had been so long; the last time he'd seen Edgar properly in person – the Corpirate's mansion – he'd barely gotten close than he'd been jumped by Edgar's guards.

But here they were now, facing off the way he'd been waiting for for years now, and he was filled with such a tremendous _rage_ that he could barely contain it, it was burning him up inside, he thought he might vibrate out of his skin. His heart hurt. His hands were shaking and he couldn't stop them no matter how hard he tried.

_And he has Jack_.

That terrified him but he forced it down, let anger rise up to take the place of fear because _this is what you've been waiting for, you are going to kill him, you can, you can, you can_. If there was one thing he was confident in it was his abilities, his one hundred percent success rate. One thing was for sure, no matter what else happened Edgar was not going to leave here alive.

He raised his gun calmly and Edgar laughed louder.

“Really? We're doing this? Have you not noticed my prisoner here?”

“I've noticed,” Ryan replied. His voice came out calm and cold, not betraying the storm brewing inside him, and Edgar fell silent – _surprised,_ Ryan thought, with a grim sort of satisfaction. He was obviously expecting Ryan to lose control, to let passion overtake him.

_Not now_.

“You just don't care then,” Edgar said, and Ryan pressed his lips together. He glanced down at Jack, who was staring at him earnestly, but he knew – _knew_ that if Edgar got so much as a hint as to how important the other man was to him, it would all be over, Jack would be dead without a second thought – right now they had at least a little time to bluff.

“What makes you think I care about anything other than killing you?” he asked, and Edgar tilted his head.

“For a while I wasn't sure,” the cow replied. “You've been chasing me for years just to get revenge for that little team you loved so much; if that isn't the height of sentimentality I don't know what is. Did you enjoy my little gift, by the way? I thought it might appeal to your nostalgia. I'm sure you miss them greatly.”

It was a glaringly obvious attempt to get him riled up – and it was working, much as he didn't want it to; a red heat building in his chest, a tremor in his shoulders he couldn't control.

“I learned from my mistakes,” Ryan growled, not lowering his gun, “Which include letting you slip away the first time.”

“Took you long enough to find me,” Edgar agreed. “I kept an eye out for you. The _mad mercenary_. And I know you've been keeping tabs on me. Imagine my excitement when I went after Ramsey to find you in with him as well. Makes our little game all the more fun.”

“Well, Ramsey won. This is where it ends. You have nothing left.”

“I have enough.” Edgar held the knife out, pressing the tip to Jack's throat; he was forced to tilt his head back to avoid being nicked. Ryan's breath caught a little but he didn't let it show.

“I thought you'd gone soft for them too,” Edgar replied. “But even if you haven't, Ramsey's soft enough for the both of us. How do you think he'll react when I present him with his precious boyfriend's head on a stick? You know I'll do it.”

It was getting harder and harder to keep his fear quashed down, especially as he saw Jack swallow and close his eyes briefly. Ryan glanced around, scanning the room, but for the life of him couldn't see any way across to the other platform; there was no walkway and it was too far to jump.

“You see I think,” Edgar said, “I think Geoff's not like you. Took all you had and you came after me. But he won't. He'll just – stop, give up, he'll have nothing left. We both know, don't we, it's a weakness? Having so much that people can target.”

Ryan was fuming, still half-searching for a way across, but Edgar's words hit him suddenly – something familiar about them. He realised with horror that it was the sort of thing he used to say, that he'd held Geoff in contempt for when they first met. _Caring too much_. Suddenly he loathed that standing here, facing off against Edgar, putting up a front of coldness, hardness, was making him fall back towards that attitude.

_I'm not like that anymore_.

But it was true, terribly true, that his concern for Jack was the only thing stopping him killing Edgar right here and now.

“Not just Pattillo here. His other little pets.” Edgar looked down at Jack, pressed the knife harder against his neck. “Real bleeding heart that Ramsey, isn't he? Takes such good care of his friends, his _family_. Can't work with a pretty face without falling for them. And those three boys of yours are _very_ pretty.” If anything it was the blank tone in his voice that made things all the worse; he spoke of being excited but didn't sound it. Just matter of fact like this was all _routine_ for him, a calm certainty in his voice that he was still in control. “I'll kill them too, right in front of him-”

Ryan fired.

The minute Edgar threatened the lads he just saw _red_. He barely even made the decision to do it before the two guards behind Jack were falling to the ground; he was a good shot, dropped them in one go without hitting Jack, kneeling in front of them. He saw Jack jump at the gunshot. Edgar's head turned in surprise but he reacted quickly. Coming up behind Jack, he hooked an elbow tight around his throat and dragged him upright a little, still mostly on his knees, the gun pressed to his head.

“Hit a nerve, did I?” he demanded. “I thought you didn't care.”

Ryan grit his teeth. He couldn't respond, didn't want to engage in conversation with Edgar anymore – just wanted to _kill him_. But Edgar was dragging Jack back now, and his elbow was so tight around his neck that he was starting to choke, hands coming up to grasp feebly at Edgar's arm. Ryan stepped forward, raising the gun desperately, but he couldn't shoot Edgar without hitting Jack too-

Edgar was laughing now, seeing his panic.

“See, that's what I thought, Ryan. You do care, too much, just like you always do. It's not just about Ramsey, you know – all this. It's about you too. You're the one who got away.” He sing-songed it, and Ryan felt a deeper unease settle in him because it was as he'd told Michael – Edgar had always seemed emotionless, blasé about everything he did, but there was something in it now.

Edgar gestured up towards his face and Ryan remembered then, the grenade. The blood he'd seen spotting through Edgar's mask when last they'd met, before he got away and Ryan couldn't catch a trace of him for months after.

“You've left your mark,” Edgar replied. “So I'm going to enjoy killing you. But save the best until last, right? Cause now you're going to watch as I kill _him,”_ he shook Jack, elbow pulling even tighter, making him gag - “Because you obviously _haven't_ learned, you've gone and gotten yourself close to another little team – I'm going to cut his _fucking_ head off and you can take it to Ramsey and show him that he's not winning after all. Maybe if you rush you can even get to the control room in time to see my pig kill your other friends. You're right, Ryan, this is where it ends.”

He flung Jack to the ground, clubbing him around the back of the head with the butt of his gun as he fell; Jack crumpled down and Ryan let out a wild yell. He surged forward, up to the edge of the platform, but he couldn't get across, couldn't get _across_ -

Edgar stepped up, one foot planted squarely on Jack's chest, raising the knife up, and Ryan had to do something, _anything_ -

He raised the semiautomatic and fired a hail of bullets; Edgar stumbled back, hit in the chest - he was moving too fast for Ryan to get a headshot in - but even from here Ryan could see the outline of a kevlar vest under his clothes. He was winded but already moving back in, some inhuman strength taking over him, and Ryan fired again.

This time he hit the pipes running from the water tanks. Jets of liquid spewed up towards Edgar, taking him off guard for a second, and in the confusion Ryan saw Jack – dazed but conscious – sweep out a leg, knocking Edgar's feet out from under him.

Edgar started firing as he went down and Ryan dived sideways, out of the way, but the bullets flew way off kilt, up towards the ceiling. Something cracked up there as the bullets bit through the metal – seemed to damage something that had been playing support, because a large rack of chains and hooks detached at one end and swung down to hang between the platforms.

Ryan caught sight of a swinging chain. He sized up the distance and then saw Edgar clambering to his feet, rushing the still downed Jack with knife raised, and didn't think, just _moved_.

He ran forward and leaped, eyes trained on his target, the platform beyond. Caught the chain and for a terrifying moment slipped down it a few inches – the grip on his gloves compromised by the layers of ashy dust that coated them from walking through the smoke – but he held tight. For a dizzying moment he was flying through the air as his momentum had him swinging forward – the platform loomed ahead and he flung himself towards Edgar and Jack.

He crashed smack bang into them and pain speared through his side; he cried out, disoriented for a moment as he smashed into the ground.

The three of them had fallen sprawled in a tangle; Ryan tried to get up but his side protested and he fell back down again. He could feel wet blood sticking his shirt to his skin and looked down to see that he'd landed against Edgar's knife and it had sliced clean through his jacket and undershirt, leaving a deep gash across his right abdomen.

It was just a flesh wound, he was already pushing the pain aside, but not quite quickly enough; the next thing he knew Edgar was shoving both of them off. The cow scrambled to his feet and raised his gun, firing; Ryan was still dazed but suddenly Jack was grabbing him and throwing them both out of the line of fire-

And nearly off the edge of the platform. Ryan grabbed at the rail just in time but felt Jack slip beside him. The platform was soaked with water from the pipes, the metal slick and dangerous and Jack went crashing over the edge, barely grabbing it and hanging on with his fingertips.

Edgar was running; he'd turned and was making a dash for a door on the far end of the platform-

Ryan's first instinct was to run after him but he paused, torn, turning back towards Jack. He started to reach to pull him back up but was too late. With a wild yell Jack lost his grip and fell down to the floor below.

Ryan's heart nearly stopped; he started forward but saw Jack land in a roll. For a moment he lay still, and Ryan was seized by panic – but he pushed himself up then, wincing.

“Fuck – I'm fine!” he called up, staring up at Ryan. “Go! Get him!”

Ryan didn't need to be told twice; he snatched up his gun – it'd fallen from his hand as he landed – and skidded after Edgar, heart pounding – now that Jack was out of the way everything closed down to this one chance, this _hunt_ -

_It's time, it's time – now I'm going to kill you._

 

* * *

  
“I need you to sit up a bit,” Geoff said.

Michael saw Ray grimace over the cameras, but he didn't complain. Just pushed himself upright more, shuffling until his back was to Geoff. When he lifted his injured leg up off the ground his face contorted in pain and he let out a horrible whimper. It was right in Michael's ear over the comms, and his grip on the back of Gavin's computer chair tightened until his knuckles went white, the sound wrenching at something deep in his gut.

Geoff bent down to inspect the exit wound, his fingers gentle against the bandage as he adjusted it.

“Clean in and out,” he said. “Bleeding a fuckload but I think – I think you'll be fine.”

“Fucking A,” Ray replied, “I'm more worried about Ryan and Jack though. Gav? You got anything?”

“Not yet,” Gavin said. His voice was very strained as he frantically scanned the screens, looking for any sign of them, trying to work out where they might have gone from the elevator.

Ray let out a rush of breath. And Michael could hear it, the faint hitch in his voice. He'd known the other man long enough to tell when he was in pain, a lot of pain, even if he tried to hide it. And his heart was slamming in his chest now because standing here, helpless, while Ray was hurt – it was killing him, even if he was using every last vestige of his self control to stay calm and focused on the job and-

And Geoff was there, with Ray, Michael could see him now over the security cameras. Knelt next to him on the floor, one hand gently massaging his shoulder. The older man's face was drawn with worry but he was obviously used to keeping his head in messy situations, and despite how afraid he was Michael felt abruptly reassured. Geoff knew what he was doing. Ray wasn't alone down there. Geoff loved him – just as much as he loved Michael – he'd keep him safe.

He let out a long, slow breath, reaching up to run his hands through his hair, and turned to Gavin.

He was staring at the screens, and Michael frowned as he noticed his chest starting to heave as he breathed faster and faster.

“Gav?” he prompted, quietly – met Dan's eyes worriedly over the other's head.

“I can't find them.” Gavin's voice was artificially tight. “The earpieces are dead. There are no cams in that part of the facility. They're just – gone, I can't find them, I'm _useless_ -”

He slammed a fist down against the control panel in a sudden violent motion that made Michael jump. It was jarring, seeing Gavin lose control like that, normally he broke down inwardly but when he looked up at Michael there was terrible fear in his eyes and it made Michael afraid too; afraid for Ray and Ryan and Jack-

“You're not useless,” Dan spoke up. He reached for Gavin, tried to put a hand on his shoulder but was shrugged off instantly.

“I am. It's my fucking job to see everything, to be able to warn you guys. Didn't bloody well see the guy that shot Ray, did I? I should've – looked harder, I should have-”

“Vav,” Ray cut in – he'd heard over the earpiece, of course he had. “He was hiding behind those boxes. Not your fault. We don't expect the impossible from you.”

“We were all distracted after those dogs,” Geoff added.

“Really not a good time for you to freak out,” Michael cut in, and Ray tutted at him over the earpiece, but the reminder that they all needed to focus on the job seemed to snap Gavin out of it a little.

“Well, what do we do now, Geoff?” he asked. “I literally cannot see them, I just – they've disappeared.”

“We'll have to go find them ourselves then,” Michael spoke up. “I'll go after them, you guys stay here-”

“No one's going anywhere alone,” Geoff snapped. “Ray, can you move? I'll take you up to the others then Michael and I can go together-”

“Oh, shit,” Gavin said suddenly, and they all fell silent, Michael whipping around to look at him.

“Why oh-shit?” he demanded, worried. “What's oh-shitting?”

“The pig's finished up in the armoury, it looks like he knows we're in here. He's heading right for us with some other guys.” Gavin pointed at the screen and Michael looked over.

Sure enough, the pig was striding down the corridor leading to this room, a large automatic weapon in hand. Michael was marginally relieved to find there were only two others with him, but even two men were dangerous when they had submachine guns.

“What's going on?” Geoff demanded. “Are you guys okay in there?”

Michael looked around the room, then over at Dan, who was shaking his head slowly. This wasn't a good spot; the room was small, with only the one exit and no cover. They could get pinned down easily in here.

“No,” he replied. “We need to move. Gavin, get up, we're going-”

“Geoff,” Gavin was saying now, “You need to move Ray if you can, you can't just sit there in the open. I can't see any more men in the building but the pig might come for you next-”

“We'll be fine. You get your little asses out of that room,” Geoff snapped.

Dan grabbed Gavin's arm and pulled him out of the chair, pushing him towards Michael.

“Get Gav out of here,” he said, voice very serious. “Go back down the stairs and see if you can join Geoff down where he is. There's better cover there. I'll stay back here and hold them off – slow them down enough for you lot to get downstairs.”

“No!” Gavin shouted immediately. “Jesus Christ, Dan, we're not just leaving you behind.”

“Wasn't asking you, B,” Dan replied, already going to the door and readying his gun. Gavin marched forward and grabbed his arm, spinning him viciously around.

“We're not,” he repeated, “Leaving _anyone_ behind.”

Michael had heard Gavin sound a lot of things. Desperate and scared and broken but now, none of that. Just _angry_ , and Michael looked at him now – staring up at Dan, eyes burning. He looked older, and tired, and this, it seemed, was a breaking point of a different sort.

“Gavin's right,” he spoke up quietly, “No need to play hero. We can all get out of this, come on.”

Dan hesitated – then nodded, opening the door quickly and ushering Gavin out between them.

They'd taken too long.

Michael could already hear the pig's heavy footsteps coming down the corridor, and as he watched the man turned the corner and gave a great shout as he spied them.

“Go, go!” he yelled, shoving Gavin – the pig was already shooting and Michael flinched as a hail of bullets peppered the wall beside him. He turned back over his shoulder, returning fire, but this hallway was a straight line with no cover and it was too dangerous to make a stand here.

He turned, sprinting after Dan and Gavin – but the stairwell was too far away. They didn't have time to get down there. Dan seemed to have realised the same thing, for he turned towards the nearest other exit – a set of double doors on the right wall – and shoved at them. They swung open easily, thankfully unlocked. Dan burst through, dragging Gavin behind him, and Michael followed moments after. He slammed the doors shut behind him and quickly bolted them at the top. They wouldn't hold for long but it was better than nothing.

He looked around, getting their bearings. The first thing he saw were two dead bodies strewn on the ground before them, and he quickly realised they were in the railed off parapet above the slaughter floor, where Edgar's men had been before, shooting down at Geoff and the others – including the man who'd hit Ray. There was more cover here; stacks of crates and great metal shipping containers at various points on the deck, and Michael hurried to get behind something.

“Hey, I can see you guys!” Geoff's voice rang out. “What the fuck are you doing up there?”

Michael moved to the rail and looked down, scanning the floor for Geoff – but his view was blocked by part of the corrals; he couldn't see over to the elevator where he knew he was crouched with Ray.

“Nowhere else to go,” he snapped. “They'll be after us in a second.”

“I'm coming over to help cover you from down here,” Geoff said. “Ray, can you get up?”

“I can fucking well try,” Ray replied.

Michael couldn't see what happened next, but he could hear it – a grunt from Ray, Geoff murmuring gentle encouragements as he presumably helped him out. He heard Ray give a hissing gasp when he put weight on his injured leg, paused for a few minutes to breathe heavily in wheezing exhales. Each noise bit at his heart and he ached to be there to help, but for now he had other, rather pressing matters to take his attention.

He heard a rattle of gunfire at the doors and ducked aside; there was a glass panel on the door that the bullets shattered instantly. There came several rousing thuds as the pig and the two men began to kick at the door; the bolt wouldn't hold for long.

“Get behind cover,” he snapped, turning to the others – Dan was already pushing Gavin down behind one of the metal storage units and Michael moved to one on the other side of the parapet, his heart pounding.

“Stay down,” he heard Dan say. “Don't so much as pop your head out okay?”

“Trust me, I won't,” Gavin muttered back.

“Almost there,” Geoff was muttering. “Come on, now – okay, sit here and don't move.”

“Couldn't move if I tried,” Ray replied, voice strained – but Michael couldn't pay much more attention to their conversation as the door rattled and shuddered at the end of the deck. He took a few deep breaths through his nose, getting ready to fire as soon as they emerged.

_What I wouldn't give for some charges_ , he thought – _set some trip mines and blow them soon as they come through. Much easier._

With a great bang the bolt broke away and the doors burst open. Michael began to shoot but was soon forced to duck back down. The automatic weapons had a relentless stream of shots raining down on them and he crouched back behind the storage shelves, breathing heavily. Adrenaline had him buzzing, surging like fire through his veins; sometimes there could be a thrill in it, the danger, but not now under these circumstances.

To his left he caught a glimmer of movement; a small break in the firing gave Dan the opportunity to pop up and get off some shots of his own. The pig and his men were forced back to find cover of their own and Michael took advantage of the opportunity to get up and start shooting himself. The pig had better cover than the other two so he focused on one of the guardsmen, half-concealed behind a stack of crates. Spent half his clip keeping him down before suddenly the pig popped out from behind cover with a fresh burst of fire. Michael didn't quite duck down in time and the next thing he knew he was skidding backwards across the hard metal floor, unable to breathe – it felt like he'd been hit in the gut with a baseball bat and for a moment he _panicked_ , realising he'd been _shot_ but-

_You're fine, you're fine._

He was wearing body armour and it had absorbed the shot, which had glanced off the metal shelving in front of him anyway, but it still felt like the breath had been punched from his body, a heavy dull ache spreading through his stomach. He couldn't move for a moment – had thankfully fallen back behind part of the wall. For a moment all he could do was gasp, fighting alarm when he just _couldn't get air in_ -

“Michael,” he heard Dan say in his ear - “Michael, are you down, what happened?”

He couldn't reply, and he heard Gavin make a shrill noise of alarm. But then, finally, he sucked in a breath, a terrible loud gasp that he was sure the others heard, and he managed to roll over. His stomach hurt like a bitch when he sat up, crawling back to his initial place, the heady blood rush of adrenaline making his head spin a little.

“I'm fine,” he croaked out - “Fine, just winded. Kevlar had my back on that one.”

“Please don't get shot,” Ray spoke up, “I know you love to imitate my awesomeness in every way but this is one instance where we're better off not matching.”

Michael barked out a laugh – turned and shot Dan a slightly shaky thumbs up.

“Guys,” Geoff announced then. “I'm down below and I have a grenade launcher.”

“Fuckin' hell,” Dan spoke up, and Michael let out a hiss of breath.

“Range on those grenades isn't huge,” Ray piped up. “But you're all close together, it's not – don't shoot at them if you're not certain you won't hit Michael and the others.”

“Oh God,” Gavin muttered.

“One of them is right at the back near the door,” Dan spoke up. “You can get him and I'm pretty sure we'll be fine-”

He cut off as another load of bullets peppered down around them; Michael heard Gavin make a muffled startled noise and some shuffling from their end as, it seemed, they sought further cover. He himself flinched as a bullet sparked off the wall near him, too close for comfort.

“Do it, Geoff,” he snapped – he couldn't get a shot off himself in all the chaos. “We need some sort of distraction – we're pinned down here.”

Geoff didn't need to be told twice; now that the decision had been made it was only a second later that Michael heard the rush of pressurised air as the grenade launcher discharged. He ducked down against the wall, curling in on himself.

The explosion rocked the entire deck. Michael was long used to working around loud noises but the proximity of this one made his ears pop and ring. He was right, they were far away enough that the shockwave didn't hit him too badly; it still knocked him back against the wall and for the second time he felt the breath press from his lungs, but he had done this enough times to gather himself through it; as the blast faded he recovered enough to push himself up and look out again.

The man closest to the door had been obliterated. Michael flicked his gaze away from the blood and matter on the wall. The pig had dodged back behind cover but the other man was hunkered dazed against the wall; Michael stood up, taking the chance to move up towards him, raising his gun to fire. Unfortunately he hadn't quite realised how shaken by the explosion he was; his shots all missed and realising he was under fire the man scrambled up and began to shoot back. Michael ducked back to the wall and they exchanged shots before he suddenly felt his cartridge click, empty.

“Oh, shit,” he said, scrambling back towards cover. A gunshot rang out perilously close to his ear. He felt the air pressure pop and change before the loud bang, and flinched, when suddenly there came a flurry of bullets from Dan.

“Don't worry, I got you covered,” Dan said – except the pig had emerged as well by now and Michael could tell Dan was hard pressed keeping them down on both ends as he scrambled back behind his shelf to reload his gun.

Bullets came from below, too, then – Geoff had started shooting – and then, to Michael's surprise and horror, Gavin appeared next to Dan, gun in hand, and began to fire upon the man as well.

“What the _fuck_ are you doing?” he heard Dan snap.

“Helping out!” Gavin replied, sounding equal parts determined and terrified. His shots were clumsy but they kept the second guard down long enough for Michael to shove a new clip in his gun and rise up. A little recovered now, his shot rang true and the man crumpled to the ground a second later.

Now only the pig remained.

As luck had it, being fired upon from three different directions hemmed him in a bit; he faltered and Dan got in a shot to his arm. He was spun backwards, dropping his gun, the weapon skittering from his hand.

“There! Get him!” Dan yelled; but they were all running a little low on ammo now and he was behind cover; they were forced to wait so as not to waste it. A moment of very tense silence fell as they all waited to see what would happen.

With a mighty roar the pig suddenly burst from his spot and charged towards Michael, who was standing closest, having moved a little closer to shoot the other guard. Michael barely had time to raise his gun before the pig was slamming into him. He was a large, heavy man and the momentum knocked Michael back hard enough that he lost his grip on his own weapon as he slammed into the wall. Geoff and Dan immediately stopped shooting.

“I can't – you're too close, Michael, I can't get him,” Geoff yelled, frantically.

“Kick his ass, Michael!” was Ray's incredibly helpful contribution. It snapped Michael back to attention and he pushed back against the larger man, managing to get a punch in to his throat. It did little; the mask stifled the blow a little and he could tell the pig was wearing body armour as well. For a moment they grappled, locked together in an odd sort of wrestle where neither was punching the other and they were both pushing not to be held against the wall.

The pig won out. He had a distinct height and weight advantage and with a great heave he slammed Michael back. The back of his head struck the wall and for a dizzying moment he saw stars, a terrible rush of lightheadedness overtaking him. He barely swung himself out of the way to avoid a punch to the face but the next thing he knew someone was flying onto the pig from the side.

Dan.

He was unable to shoot given how close the pig was to Michael so, it seemed, he took it upon himself to jump into the fray with a solid kick that sent the pig stumbling back. Michael shook himself, getting his bearings back, and straightened up in time to see Dan and the pig exchange a series of blows.

Proper hand to hand combat was not Michael's forte, at all, and it seemed like Dan's preferred means of fighting was mostly comprised of 'pummel them until they give in'. Michael moved in to help, eyes honing in on the pig's injured arm; he lunged for it and punched the pig hard in the shoulder, an elbow swung around and nearly brained him but it gave Dan the space he needed to bring a knee up to the pig's stomach.

The body armour had the blow glancing harmlessly away and the pig lashed out with his good arm, a desperate uppercut that snapped Dan's head back; there was brute force behind it and he fell to the ground. The pig rounded on Michael and charged him again, slamming him back against the rail of the deck. The hard metal bit into Michael's spine painfully and he yelled as the pig started to try and shove him over. He glanced down and his head swam dizzily for a moment at the distance. Ray, Geoff and Gavin were all shouting in his ear but he couldn't focus on their words-

Mustering all his strength he pushed back from the rail, stumbling against the pig's stomach. He felt the man's arm hook around his neck, squeezing so tight he could barely breathe – and suddenly the self defence lessons he'd given Gavin flashed back into his mind.

He dropped like a stone to the ground, falling into a crouch, and the momentum had the pig flipping up over his shoulder. He crashed over the rail and there was an awful moment of silence as he fell.

He hit the ground with a terrible sickening _crack._

Michael stayed where he was, on his knees, breathing heavily for a moment as he registered what was happening. He heard Dan groan and get up behind him.

Gavin leaped up from where he'd been hiding and ran to the rail, peering over the edge. The movement jolted Michael into action and he came up to see too. The pig lay on his back on the floor below, sprawled out flat. For a moment Michael thought he was dead – had broken his back or his neck – but then he saw his leg twitch, the faint rise of breath, and realised with horror that he was still alive.

Gavin realised the same thing.

“Geoff! Geoff!” he screeched. “Kill it! _Kill the pork_!”

“I'm on it,” Geoff said. He was standing nearby and already hurrying over, gun raised. Before the pig could so much as twitch again he was shooting him in the head. The body jolted and then fell still; Geoff came over and looked down on it, then turned to face them up on the parapet and shot them a thumbs up.

“Dead as dicks!”

Michael slumped over in relief. He started laughing and wasn't quite sure why, it was a little bit hysterical. They were alive, and God his ribs hurt, his head hurt, he still fell a bit dizzy – but they were _alive_ , and the pig was dead, and it really was only Edgar left to deal with now.

_Edgar_.

It hit him then, a sobering thought; Ryan and Jack were still nowhere to be seen. He stopped laughing abruptly.

Dan came over to him then, rubbing his chin, seeming no worse for wear after his fall.

“You alright?” he asked, and Michael nodded, absently massaging his stomach under the body armour.

“I'm fine. Gonna have a fucking bad bruise but that's nothing new.”

“Michael.” Gavin had come up now. “Michael, you Emperor Palpatine'd him.”

“I what now?”

“Well, sort of. You know, dramatic fall to the death and all that.” Gavin grinned, but there was something hysterical in that too, and he reached out and ran a hand gently down Michael's arm. “Are you...?”

“I'm fine,” Michael repeated. And then reached out and smacked him upside the head, not too hard. “And you! What happened to staying behind cover?”

“Oi! Helped out didn't I?”

Dan rounded on him as well.

“Yeah, B, the fuck was that all about? I told you to stay down!”

“Not when you lot are getting shot at! Besides, I'm fine.” He reached up and rubbed his shoulder. “My arm hurts though.”

“Being a tiny weakling with no shooting experience will do that to you,” Michael said drily, and laughed at Gavin's scowl.

“You guys coming to join me down here any time soon...?” Ray spoke up, and Michael snapped back to attention. There was a staircase leading down to the slaughter floor a little way down the deck and they quickly headed over. Geoff met them at the bottom and started to lead them over to where he'd left Ray in one of the lairage pens, but they were only halfway there when they heard a door open on the other side of the room. All of them stiffened, immediately on alert, but moments later a familiar voice was calling out.

“Geoff? Ray?”

“Jack!” Geoff cried, already running to meet him; he'd entered through a service door near the corrals.

A rush of relief hit Michael at the sight of him. He sprinted after Geoff, who'd met Jack in a brief but tight hug before stepping back. Michael reached out and pressed the other man's arm; Jack responded in kind. He looked unharmed but a little shaken. And was also, for reasons unknown, soaking wet and without his gun.

“What the fuck happened?” Michael demanded.

“Where's Ryan?” Gavin asked.

Jack had been smiling but it vanished immediately.

“He's after Edgar – I couldn't get up to them; came to get you guys first. They ran out the door leading from the back of the hide processing place.” He turned to Gavin. “Where's that go?”

“I... I don't know, somewhere around the back of the courtyard,” Gavin replied.

“Let's go then,” Michael said grimly – “Was it just Edgar?”

Jack nodded. “If you got the pig I think we might have taken out all his other men.”

“Great,” Geoff said, and cracked his knuckles with a menacing grin. “He's not leaving here alive.”

“He might be outnumbered now but right now Ryan's up against him alone,” Jack pointed out, and they all sobered a little. “Come on, we need to go find him.”

“Hey, I'm coming too.” Ray's voice rang out both in the earpiece and beside them; they turned to see him hobbling over, limping terribly as he dragged his injured leg along beside him. Michael's heart dropped a little at the sight of him. Ray's face was pale and twisted in pain and he hurried to his side to grab him around the waist and take most of his weight.

“You should not be fucking moving around, dude,” he chided, then leaned in, pressing a kiss to Ray's forehead. Ray grinned weakly at him before turning to the others.

“I'm not gonna just sit here. Come on, stop standing around, Ryan could be-”

He broke off as shots rang out from the other end of the building. They all exchanged alarmed glances before Geoff turned and began to jog in that direction, Jack hot on his heels.

“Go with them,” Dan said immediately, “We'll catch up.”

Michael nodded. He passed Ray over to Gavin and ran after the other two. They crossed through the corrals again and out a back door beside the elevator that led into a courtyard between the two sides of the abattoir building. Another round of gunfire split the air, and Jack glanced furiously around before looking up and pointing.

“There!”

Somehow both Ryan and Edgar had gotten up on the roof. It looked like they'd been shooting at each other some time already, both of them having found cover behind various large chimneys and a raised roof hatch. But as they watched, the gunshots ceased as, it seemed, they both ran out of ammo. The next thing they knew Edgar was charging towards Ryan, a knife raised; Ryan rose to meet him but even from this distance Michael could see him favouring his side. They traded blows for a minute, Ryan parrying every attack Edgar threw at him before the cow suddenly brought a leg up and kicked him in his injured side. Ryan stumbled back and Edgar lunged forwards. They fell, Edgar on top, and vanished around the other side of the roof.

Michael's mouth was dry, his heart pounding so hard he felt sick and they had to help, they had to get up there somehow but the only way was back through the building and it would take too long-

“Can we shoot from here?” Jack demanded, already heading around the side of the abattoir trying to catch a glimpse of the two again. There was barely restrained panic in his voice.

“Not with a pistol,” Michael replied, glancing down at his own gun – _useless, useless_ -

“I still have two grenades left.” Geoff hefted the grenade launcher and Jack glanced over at him, looking torn.

“It might... it could be too dangerous... we'll see, let's get least get around here first and find them again.”

Michael hadn't seen Edgar up close yet but it was apparent that even evenly matched against Ryan he was dangerous. A terrible fear gripped him now, knowing that they were so close yet so far from helping out. He swallowed it down, a hard lump in his throat, and followed Jack around the side of the abattoir – _come on Ryan, hang in there_ – he'd never doubted the other's abilities before, his reputation made sure of that, but this was _Edgar_ and all Michael could think was _come on now, come on, just one more person, kill one more and that's it, it's over –_ it was all on Ryan now.  


* * *

  
Ryan was breathing heavily as he ran down the corridor. It was oddly quiet, the facility empty around them. No sound other than the slap of his footsteps against the floor – and Edgar's running ahead of him, Ryan in hot pursuit.

Quiet – at least until a sudden spurt of gunfire came, faint from the other end of the building. Ryan faltered for a second – _it must be the others_ – he cursed his broken earpiece but continued to run on. Ahead of him Edgar turned a corner and Ryan made to follow, but paused again when there came a distant explosion.

_Oh, God. What's going on over there?_

The others could handle themselves. There was still a faint worry nagging at the back of his mind, but he pushed it away – he trusted Geoff, Jack, all the rest to be fine, to be handling it. He could focus on his own task for now.

There was a door around the corner and he burst through it only to find no sign of Edgar; it led out onto an empty balcony overlooking the courtyard. He glanced around, searching for the cow, and caught sight of him. He'd climbed over the balcony rail onto part of the lower section of the roof, and as Ryan watched he ran along the tiles to a service ladder leading up to the roof on the highest level of the building.

Ryan raised his gun and fired but the other man was too far away and moving too quickly up the ladder; he didn't have enough ammo left to keep trying.

“Fuck, fuck,” he muttered, and turned, looking around, to find a fire escape nearby. He clambered over the balcony and swung across to it, making his own way up. By the time he reached the top Edgar had too, and for a moment they stood staring at each other, facing off across the ridged, gently sloped expense of the abattoir roof.

There was something ridiculous about the sight of him. His great, heavy black coat, imposing size, standing on dirty red roof tiles with that stupid rubber cow head atop it all. Gun hanging from one hand. A strong, cold wind had started up, it was beginning to spit – he remembered what he'd told Gavin last night, about the moon and the rain. It had been just yesterday but that warmth, the other's touch, suddenly seemed very far away from him.

Ryan panted, taking the chance to catch his breath. Now that Jack wasn't being held captive, that that fear wasn't there, he looked upon Edgar with all the hatred that he'd bottled up these last few years. And the anger was there, still, but with a familiar push he let it fall away into the cold hardness that was so familiar to him. His side hurt – his shirt was stuck to the wound and it pulled whenever he moved – he let that fade away too.

“So here we are,” Edgar said then. “After you chased me all this time. I looked for you too, you know. You're good at staying hidden.” He gestured up at his face. “We both are. The two of us with our masks.”

Ryan grit his teeth. He lifted his gun and Edgar lifted his as well. Neither shot yet. Some morbid masochistic tug in Ryan needing to hear whatever else Edgar had to say; he wasn't sure why. Didn't want to leave anything unfinished, he supposed.

“Did they see you without it?” Edgar asked. “Your old team didn't. Died without ever laying eyes on your face.”

He lifted a hand up to his ear.

“Have these ones done the same? Because my pig just called in. He took them out. Your friends are dead, Ryan – they're gone, it's just you and me left. Just like last time.”

Ryan's stomach dropped.

_No_ , he thought – and for a moment a terrible numbness crept over his entire body, like it had all just turned to stone, the thought that he might be alone again, alone, _alone_ -

_He doesn't bluff_ , he'd told Michael – but that had been before, before when Edgar had forces and weapons and munitions at his disposal. And he'd thought Edgar cold, unfeeling, but here and now something had changed. He was obviously sour about what Ryan had done to him at their last meeting. So now this was different, the one time he was letting his feelings get involved – a desperation now that he had _nothing left_ -

He had nothing left.

Nothing left so he was lying now, bluffing now, Ryan couldn't, _wouldn't_ believe the others were dead-

He clung to it, that hope – didn't think about how once he would not have let himself hope at all – and did not reply, instead pulled the trigger and shot at Edgar.

The man just stepped calmly aside, ducking back behind a nearby large chimney. There were several of them about the place; the abattoir was old enough that it had still, at one point, used a furnace, even if that was now long gone. Edgar raised his own gun, returning fire, and for a few minutes they traded shots; Ryan had his teeth grit, almost shaking with the strain of trying to hit the other man, but they were at awkward angles and he couldn't quite get a lock on him behind the chimney.

Abruptly Edgar stopped firing, and it was only when Ryan's own gun clicked that he realised they'd both run clean out of ammo; he hadn't had much left to start with. He searched his pockets and found he'd no spares. With a muttered curse he tossed his gun aside and pulled out his knife.

Edgar, it seemed, had had the same idea. The minute Ryan stepped out from behind the chimney it was to the frankly terrifying sight of the man charging towards him, his giant knife raised; Ryan ducked his first swipe and darted in with his own blow but Edgar blocked it immediately.

He was a large man, strong, and bore down on Ryan with a series of forceful strikes that it made his arm ache to parry. There was something frenzied to the other man's movements, this final desperate last stand, and though Ryan himself was pumped up, his heart pounding, adrenaline thundering through his veins, he still found himself being forced back across the roof a few paces.

Edgar's blade met his with a ringing crash and their knives scraped down each other, locking at the hilt; in one violent jerk Ryan yanked his knife crossways, sending Edgar's arm to the side; it created an opening and he stabbed forwards-

Only to stumble back as Edgar brought a leg up and kicked him in the side.

Pain screamed through his abdomen and he felt fresh hot blood well and stream from the wound. It hurt so much that his vision danced with spots for a moment and Edgar leaped towards him; Ryan brought up his knife to block but Edgar's weight had him tripping over his own feet, falling back. Edgar fell on top of him, knocking the breath out of him and making his side flare in agony again. They slid painfully down the side of the slanted roof only to catch between two of the tiled valleys.

For a moment Ryan was winded and Edgar took advantage of it to wrench the knife from his hand and throw it aside. He pinned Ryan down, one knee pressing into his stomach hard; he choked, coughing, trying to get his breath back. One of his arms was crushed under him and with Edgar heavy on top of him he couldn't pull it out; Edgar was sitting on the other. He struggled for a moment but Edgar wouldn't budge.

A breathless chuckle left the cow's lips.

“Here we are then, Ryan,” he snarled. “It's taken too fucking long but now I'm going to kill you. But first...” He reached forward, fingers digging in under Ryan's mask. “First I'm going to see your face.”

Ryan twisted under him but couldn't get up. Edgar's knee was right in the wound on his side and the pain was nearly making him want to throw up. The man ripped the mask off his face and the cold air hit Ryan like a slap.

With Edgar's face covered he couldn't see the other man's shock when he registered the face paint, but he felt him stiffen on top of him.

“Joke's on you,” Ryan croaked out, and laughed, almost hysterically, before spitting up at Edgar.

Edgar's hand came down to his face, scrubbed roughly over it for a moment like he thought he could rub the paint off, but it did little more than smudge it and after a second he gave up. Instead he grabbed Ryan's hair and lifted his head up before slamming it back against the roof. His cranium hit the hard tiles and his vision flashed white for a moment, seeing stars. The next thing he knew Edgar's hands had closed over his face and his thumbs were digging in against his eyes; Ryan had shut them but he could feel it now, a heavy insistent pressure against his closed eyelids. He twisted and thrashed, trying to jerk his head free, but Edgar held him in place and pressed down harder and proper _panic_ sparked through Ryan's chest as he struggled to get free-

An explosion rocked the roof, making Edgar fall forward against him, hands leaving Ryan's face to fly out and catch himself; Ryan blinked, dazed, unsure what had just happened – a deafening _boom_ but no actual explosion near them – but it gave him the opening he needed to get a leg up and kick Edgar in the stomach, forcing him back off him before he scrambled to his feet, backing up a few paces.

He saw a smoking charred hole across the other side of the roof – _a grenade_ , he realised vaguely, not nearly close enough to hurt them but enough to cause a distraction – he looked down, off the edge of the roof, and his eyes widened.

Their fight had taken them to the side of the building near where Dan and Gavin had come in, and standing by the dumpsters were Michael, Jack and Geoff, the latter lowering Ray's grenade launcher from his shoulder. A swell of relief surged up in Ryan – _they're alive, they're okay_ – new determination surged through him as he turned back towards Edgar. He bared his teeth back in something like a snarl and charged towards him.

They'd both dropped their knives and when Ryan saw Edgar going for his again, he tackled him, sending them both crashing to the roof tiles again. His side protested but he pushed through it. A vicious, brutal fight followed as they both struggled to come out on top; Ryan punched Edgar in the throat, the stomach, had his own head snapped back by a blow that split his lip, blood leaking down his chin, staining the white-painted flesh red. He finally ended up on top – elbows and knees grazed from rolling and scrambling over the tiles – and slammed Edgar's head back against the nearest chimney. For a moment the other man paused, dazed, and Ryan's hands went to his throat only for Edgar to bring a leg up and kick him again, a forceful blow that made him fall back.

Something flew out of his pocket and landed on the roof a little way away. Ryan froze.

It was the bag of his old team's possessions that Edgar had given him. He'd forgotten it was still inside his jacket. The sight of it broke through the haze of anger and pain that had overtaken him. For a moment he felt a sudden terrible sadness.

For a long, long time he had not let himself mourn them. He had been angry at their deaths, but even when he spoke of them to the others, even as he felt Geoff, Jack, Michael, Gavin, Ray slowly begin to take their place – he hadn't let himself _miss_ them, think about them, dwell on them too long.

Now was not the time to grieve but he let himself have it, for a second, the memory of them – not dead, not as the fuel for his vengeance, but what they were to him before that. Friends, _family_. And he looked back over the side of the building and saw the other three standing there, staring up at him earnestly. He was too close to Edgar for them to help out with the grenade launcher again, but somehow, even with them trapped down below, he didn't feel alone.

He turned to Edgar, who had picked up his own knife and was standing watching him, having fallen oddly silent. Both of them were panting, chests heaving. Blood was running from a cut on Ryan's forehead down into his eyes; he blinked it away. Exhaustion, pain was tugging at his limbs, leaving him feeling heavy and lethargic, and the rain had picked up by now – it wouldn't be long before the paint started running down his face.

_Time to end this_.

Edgar had to know he wasn't getting out of this alive. All his men were dead. Even if he killed Ryan now, the others were below with the grenade launcher. Ryan could hear the faint whir of chopper blades in the sky, Kdin and Lindsay hovering a little way away. Otherwise it was oddly quiet but for the patter of rain around them as they walked slowly towards each other.

Ryan swung first, a short, fast stab towards Edgar's abdomen that the cow parried; he'd meant it as a feint, following up with a kick that made Edgar dodge back. The man was slower now, obviously as tired as Ryan himself was, and the exchange of blows that followed was clumsy – but the more Ryan looked at the dead white eyes of the mask, the more he became conscious of the others down below and that bag of ghosts lying on the roof beside them – the more he slowly felt his blood begin to burn again, lending him energy and charge.

He began to move onto the offensive; soon he was the one swinging, swinging, forcing Edgar back along the roof as the other man blocked his blows. In a single vicious swipe he knocked the other man's knife from his hand; it went skittering away across the tiles. Ryan lunged forward and Edgar dodged the blow; he attempted to duck down and ram Ryan in the stomach but Ryan turned away and _kicked_.

His boot met Edgar squarely in the chest and the other man went flying backwards; he landed right on the eaves and rolled off the edge of the roof, barely catching it with his fingertips, letting out a shout of surprise.

Ryan himself was startled; the man's sudden disappearance knocked him out of the zone of concentration he'd been in. He took a moment to catch his breath, flipping his wet hair out of his face as he strode forward, knife at the ready.

This side of the building was right up against a large, deep pit, making it an even longer drop down. A terrible smell was carrying towards them on the wind; Ryan hadn't noticed it before, distracted as he was. A sweet rot like carrion. Probably the pit had once been used for the disposal of slaughtered animal corpses; he supposed now Edgar used it for all his assorted rubbish. He could see crates in there, various litter, a lot of scrap metal – deadly-sharp metal shafts sticking up in various places from the rest of the crap. Ryan didn't doubt that this was also where Edgar disposed of any bodies he needed to, which must be where the smell was coming from.

He crouched down before Edgar, who was clinging on for dear life, his fingertips white with strain. The mask tilted up to look at him and Ryan knew the man would let go just to spite him, to avoid giving him the pleasure of killing him himself – he grabbed Edgar by the front of the coat before he could.

“Now it's my turn,” he said. His voice came out quiet, but there was a vicious satisfaction under it that even he could hear. He reached out and seized the end of the cow mask, pulling it up and over Edgar's head.

He wasn't sure what he'd expected.

He remembered the first time he'd taken his own mask off before the others. Gavin's silly words – _I expected you to look really evil_ – he supposed he'd felt the same here, childishly, like Edgar's face should somehow have embodied all his wickedness, all the pain and suffering he'd caused.

But he looked... normal, almost. A cruel sneer on his face as he glared up at Ryan, but other than that, just a man. A pasty, broad face, thick lips and heavy lidded eyes giving him a slightly bovine, almost feminine look. Somehow older than Ryan had expected, with pale receding hair and barely-there wisps of eyebrows.

Most striking were the terrible deep scars cutting through the left half of his face where shrapnel from the grenade Ryan had thrown at him all those years ago had struck him; they lanced up through his eye, painting it a glassy white.

Looking at him now, finally seeing who he had been pursuing for so long, he suddenly wasn't sure what to feel, a churning mix of emotions brewing up in him but nothing specific that he could pull out. Anger above it all, he supposed – anger that he drew upon now, letting it rise up, overtake him. One final push.

Edgar opened his mouth to speak but Ryan didn't give him the chance. He'd heard enough. He stood up, dragging Edgar with him, a sudden surge of adrenaline lending him the strength to hold the man dangling over the edge of the roof as with his other hand he brought the knife up and stabbed him. Savage, short thrusts as the knife punched into his stomach, again and again, twisting and pulling out in turns.

Part of him wanted to scream with each blow, to yell, to swear, but no sound came out; his teeth were clenched so tightly together his jaw ached, tears springing at the corners of his eyes. This was what he'd wanted, _what he_ _wanted_ ; with one final malicious thrust he drove the knife as deep into Edgar's gut as he could.

Edgar's face had gone white; he opened his mouth but couldn't speak, froth bubbled up at the corners of his lips for a moment before he vomited blood, all over Ryan's front. Ryan didn't flinch, yanking the knife out before mustering the last of his strength and throwing Edgar down over the edge of the building.

He sank to his knees, legs finally giving out as he watched the body fall, fall-

And then with a sickening crunch land impaled on one of the metal shafts. It twitched for a moment, limbs jerking up before falling terribly limp. He saw Edgar's head loll lifelessly to the side.

For a moment he stared down at the body, suspended on the metal spike deep in that terrible pit.

Then he collapsed back onto the roof tiles, breathing heavily, all the aches and pains of the fight rushing back in.

Blood, tears, rain were streaming down his face; he could feel the paint running in rivulets over his skin. He gasped and gasped, unable to quite take it in, that he was finally dead.

Part of him – part of him had been afraid. That revenge would come and go and he'd feel empty afterwards, that it wouldn't fix anything. But he didn't feel like that now, he was _satisfied_ , finally, it was as though a terrible weight had dropped off his shoulders and he heard, then, a great cheer come up from the ground. Michael's voice. They'd seen what had happened – he heard Geoff give a loud, elated shout before bursting out into his distinctive laughter, and that made it seem _real_ , somehow, the others witnessing it- Ryan began to laugh himself, lying there with the rain pouring down on him, slowly soaking him to the bone. Edgar dead in the hole below him.

_It's over,_ he realised. After so long.

A sudden crushing relief.

_It really is – it's over, it's over, it's over._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> andicanjuggle made a [super cool fanmix](http://8tracks.com/gingerwholock/our-love-s-a-dangerous-game) for the story! Thank you so much, it is great~ <3


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The part where I tie up all the loose ends oop

“Is he dead? Is he dead? What's going on?” Gavin demanded over the earpiece.

Jack could not answer because his lips were currently occupied by Geoff, who, after bursting into hysterical screaming laughter at the sight of Edgar's body falling into the pit, had grabbed his boyfriend and kissed him hard. Jack wasn't complaining; he wound his arms around Geoff's waist and tugged him closer, mouth moving against his just as enthusiastically.

His heart was pounding, slamming in his chest – relief shooting through him like adrenaline because _he's dead, he's dead, he's really dead – we did it – Ryan did it – we_ won _, it's over now. It's all over_.

“He's dead!” Michael was crowing beside them, in answer to Gavin's question. “He's fucking dead as _fuck_ , Ryan got him.” Another laugh. “Ryan _got him_.”

Jack pulled away from Geoff and they stared into each other's eyes for a moment. The sheer exhilaration in Geoff's face was incredible; he wore a wide, silly grin, and Jack couldn't help but grin back.

Geoff turned away then and reeled Michael in for a kiss. Jack looked up towards the roof. He couldn't see Ryan, and for a brief moment he panicked – they hadn't been able to see too much from here, and he feared that the other man may have been somehow injured – that he could have collapsed – but as he watched, a figure rose up. Ryan had been lying down, it seemed, but he walked over to the edge of the roof – a small dark silhouette against the grey winter sky – and waved before pointing over to the other side of the roof, where presumably there was a ladder or some way down. Jack waved back, shoulders slumping in relief that he was alright.

_He's fine. We're all fine._

_And Edgar is_ dead.

The threat of him had consumed their lives so much over the last few months that he almost couldn't believe it was finally over. It didn't feel real.

Dan, Gavin and Ray were chattering in his ear – for the most part cheering the news of the death, but also confused – demanding details – unsure where they'd gotten off to since they ran out of the building, and Jack finally tuned into them.

“Ryan threw him off the roof,” he spoke up, and they fell silent at his words. “He's definitely dead – we'll check though, of course – but Ryan's fine. He's gonna meet us, down in the courtyard I think. Where are you guys?”

“We've come out towards the front door,” Dan replied. “We'll meet you there.”

“Don't move Ray too much,” Jack said – his good mood souring a little as he remembered that they weren't emerging from this unscathed – but he heard Ray make a little annoyed sound.

“I'll be fine,” he replied, but his voice was a little weak, strained still.

“We'll come to you,” Jack said, and turned to Geoff and Michael. They'd pulled apart by now and Geoff was wandering towards the pit to get a closer look at the body. Jack followed him. They didn't get too close, not wanting to fall in by accident, but stood by the edge looking down.

Edgar appeared quite dead. From this distance Jack couldn't make out too many of the details on his face, but the sight of the corpse sprawled and broken – the shaft of metal piercing through his chest ironically similar to the body he'd left to represent Jack – was satisfying. It wasn't long until the smell began to make him feel a bit ill, and he tugged Geoff's arm, pulling him back away from the scene.

Gavin, Dan and Ray were waiting for them by the front doors of the abattoir, Ray sitting on the ground with his leg stretched out ahead of him. Now that it was over, properly over, they looked exhausted but happy; Gavin started up a rousing cheer when the others approached and Ray pumped his fist in the air.

“He's dead,” Gavin said, as though he was still trying to wrap his head around it. “He's actually properly dead.”

“Skewered like a shish kebab down in that pit,” Geoff said, gleefully. “We're done. It's all done.”

Gavin beamed; he stepped forward to pull Geoff into a fierce, tight hug. Michael was already going to Ray's side and Jack was left to look over at Dan and smile.

Dan smiled back; he looked tired but happy, even if he perhaps didn't quite understand how much this all meant to them, not having chased Edgar for months as they had.

“Where's Ryan?” Gavin asked, stepping back from Geoff and looking around.

“We're going to get him now,” Geoff replied – without his earpiece Ryan wouldn't know where they were waiting for him. “Ray, you need to stay still for now, I don't like how much you're bleeding. Jack can go bring Ryan over here. I need to call in Lindsay and Kdin.”

With all the commotion Jack had half forgotten that the two of them were still hovering in the helicopter around the building. He nodded, heading back into the abattoir, only for Gavin to skip and step after him. Jack glanced over at him and Gavin smiled a bit, but it faded after a second.

“You think he's okay?” he asked quietly, and Jack frowned.

“Who, Ryan?”

“Yeah,” Gavin said, a bit hesitantly. “I don't know, he's just... wanted this for so long and now it's over. I know before he... before this was the be all end all for him.”

“Not any more,” Jack replied, firmly. The confidence in his answer wasn't faked. “This wasn't all he was living for. He's got us now. This is the end of Edgar but it's just the start for us. You know that.”

“I know,” Gavin replied, sounding a little reassured, but his doubt had Jack suddenly worried. He shoved it away, though.

_We won. That means something. That has to, to Ryan._

Ryan was just climbing down from a fire escape into the courtyard when they entered; he turned, freezing where he stood across the small lot.

He looked awful, there was no other way of putting it. His mask was off and the paint on his face was smudged out of pattern, dried blood caked across his forehead and chin, parts of it smeared and washed off by the rain so it looked like a melted, catastrophic mess. His hair wet and plastered to his head. He was heavily favouring one side, his jacket and shirt ripped and soaked black with blood. But when he saw the two of them his face split into a wide grin, and Jack recognised him a little more under the mess.

Gavin raced over and slammed into him, pulling him into a tight hug. Ryan stumbled, nearly falling back against the wall as he caught him.

“Careful, careful,” he said, voice strained, and Gavin pulled back.

“I – sorry, did I hurt you?”

“It's fine,” Ryan said, but he was wincing, favouring his side, and Jack hurried up to him.

“Is it bad?” He did a double take; the entire front of Ryan's shirt was covered in blood.

Ryan shook his head.

“Some of that's Edgar's. Flesh wound,” he replied – and turned to Gavin properly then, grabbing his shoulders and yanking him in for a kiss. There was a strange heat in it, a desperation almost, and though Jack smiled as he watched them he couldn't help but notice that Ryan’s shoulders were shaking, that his fingers, clenched in the fabric of Gavin's jacket, were trembling slightly. But he relaxed, slowly, as they kissed, and he was smiling when he pulled away. He laughed at Gavin, reaching out to thumb at his lip.

“I got paint on your face.”

“It's all running on you,” Gavin replied, gesturing up at Ryan’s own mess of black, white and red. “You look like a piece of shitty modern art.”

“Shitty modern art!” Ryan exclaimed, sounding a little offended.

“Yeah. Or like, that bloke from the Gotye music video, what's it called?”

“Well, Edgar is now just somebody that I used to know,” Ryan said – and then started laughing.

Jack looked at him, a bit concerned; he wasn't quite sure what he'd expected, certainly not for Ryan to be joking about it already – but Ryan turned to him then and Jack could see it in his eyes, the sheer amount of hysterical _relief_ – it was weighing down on all of them – and really, all he could be was glad that Ryan was _smiling_ as the other man leaned forward and pressed their lips together. He tasted like bitter paint and blood, his skin cold and clammy from the rain, but Jack couldn't help but lean into him, his touch. Remembered how he had frozen when he'd walked through that door and seen Jack at the mercy of Edgar – the barely restrained fear in his voice.

But that was all over now.

He pulled back and grabbed Ryan’s hand.

“Come on now, the others are waiting. Let's finish this the fuck up and get out of here.”

Ryan nodded. His walls had dropped, Jack realised – he didn't really bother to hide how he was moving, stiff and sore, still limping. It wasn't long before Gavin came up on his other side, looping an arm around his waist to take some of his weight.

Kdin and Lindsay were waiting with the others when they got back, and their presence effectively prevented Ryan from doing anything more than hug Geoff when he came back – he'd put his mask back on anyway – but even that was long, lingering, Michael worming his way in under Geoff’s other arm to embrace Ryan as well. They didn't say anything, just stood for a minute, holding each other, and when they pulled back Ryan turned and smiled at Ray, who smiled back.

“Nice job,” Geoff said, clapping Ryan on the shoulder, and Ryan turned to him.

“Nice job? I kill the guy we've been chasing for months now and that's all I get?”

“Amazing,” Michael piped up immediately, “Fucking bang up job. Dude, when you stabbed him that first time. And then again, and again, and when you threw him off the building. Just, world class. Ten out of ten.”

“We got a sweet view of that from the helicopter, actually,” Lindsay spoke up. Ryan turned to her, a little wary, but she was grinning, seeming just as stoked as the rest of them that this whole mess was over. “Man, when he fell on that spike. It was just like Saruman.”

“Saruman?” Ryan questioned.

Lindsay looked a little affronted. “You know. Lord of the Rings? Falls from the tower of Orthanc and gets impaled?”

“That wasn't in the movie,” Michael scoffed, and Lindsay turned to him.

“It's in the extended edition.”

“Nerd,” Michael said immediately, but there was something light in his tone, something teasing, and when Lindsay mock-scowled at him there was no heat in it. As it was, Ryan gave a small smile, seeming amused, and Jack noticed how Kdin and Lindsay exchanged a glance at that. He knew Geoff had told them that the others would all be joining them after this and was glad that they were starting to get along. It would take time, he knew, for everyone to get used to these new arrangements – but everyone at least _liking_ each other was a hell of a good start.

“Are we going home now?” Gavin spoke up, but Geoff shook his head.

“We can't just leave this place here as it is. I've called over some of our regular hired guns; we'll do a final sweep, make sure there's no one left inside. We think we killed all his men but we hafta be sure.”

“Wouldn't put it past Edgar to have had prisoners in there, too,” Ryan spoke up, sounding quite grim again, and Geoff nodded.

“That too. We'll take the ordnance and weapons he keeps here, use it for ourselves – we could do with restocking. Then we burn the rest – and his body. But you don't have to stay,” he added, turning to Gavin. “Ray needs to see a doctor, stat – you too Michael.”

“I'm fine,” Michael began, but Geoff shook his head again.

“Better safe than sorry. We have our own doctor back in AC, Kdin can fly you back, Ray too. And you, Ryan,” he added, eyes flicking over to his bloodied side. “You look like shit.”

“I'm not going anywhere,” Ryan said.

Geoff began to frown. “Like fuck you're staying here when you're bleeding all over the place.”

“There's a first aid kit in the car. I'll patch myself up. I've had worse than this, Geoff, I'm not going to collapse.” He straightened up, eyes flashing. “I'm staying. Gotta see this through to the end.”

For a moment he and Geoff stared intently at each other. Jack watched them in silence but Geoff nodded, then, seeming to realise this was something Ryan needed to do.

“Okay,” he said. “The rest of you then.”

“I'll stay and help out,” Dan spoke up, and Geoff nodded. Michael and Gavin helped Ray up between them and moved slowly off, trailing after Kdin to where he'd parked the helicopter on a clear space of ground nearby.

“It'll take a bit for the guns to get here,” Lindsay said.

Ryan nodded and began to move slowly off towards where they'd parked their cars. Jack exchanged a glance with Geoff before following.

They walked in silence until they reached the vehicles. Ryan sat in the passenger seat, the door hanging open, and rummaged in the glove box until he located the first aid kit.

“Let me,” Jack said – standing just outside the open door – Ryan looked it over without complaint and then shrugged off his jacket. He made to pull off his shirt and winced. The blood had stuck the fabric to the wound.

“Slowly,” Jack said, softly. Grabbed the hem and started to peel it off, carefully, heart tugging every time Ryan gave an involuntary little grunt of pain. “How'd this happen?”

“Turns out it's not a good idea to Tarzan-swing directly onto someone who's holding a very sharp knife,” Ryan said, through gritted teeth.

The shirt finally came free and he pulled it up over his head. Jack grimaced. His side was a bloody mess, the wound had leaked a lot – but the cut itself wasn't too bad. Long but not deep enough to cause concern. Still bleeding sluggishly.

“You got that saving me?” he asked, and Ryan shrugged.

“It's what we do,” he replied – an odd echo of what Michael had told Jack back after Andrew.

Jack pressed his lips together as he grabbed a wipe to start cleaning the blood away, Ryan's muscles taut and tense under his touch.

“Thought I was a goner back there, to be honest,” he admitted. “Then you came swinging in out of nowhere. Give Lara Croft a run for her money.”

Ryan barked out a laugh. “If we ever find ourselves raiding tombs I'll be well practised.” A pause. “When he had you...”

“I was stupid.” Jack pulled the wipe back, stared down at it. It was nearly entirely red, staining his fingers to touch. “I got confused in the smoke. His men came up from the other hallway and surrounded me. Took me to him.” He clenched his fists. “It's... it sucks, knowing you're the leverage. That he'd use me to get to you and Geoff.”

Ryan was very quiet, but he was staring at Jack as though drinking in every last detail of his face – the way he had before they'd set out this morning, and Jack could see it, unspoken in his eyes. _I was afraid_.

He clapped Ryan on the knee, jerking him out of it.

“But I'm fine,” he said. “And Ray will be fine too – somehow we all survived this. And now he's dead, we don't have to dwell on it anymore.”

“It's a new dawn, it's a new day, it's a new life,” Ryan muttered, deadpan, and Jack guffawed.

“Exactly, Nina Simone.” He reached into the kit again. “You need stitches?”

“Probably.”

“Let's do this then.” He pulled out the sewing kit but Ryan laid a hand on his, stilling him for a moment.

Jack looked up at him then. Was nearly taken aback by how soft his expression was under the messy, smudged paint., leaking in rivulets down his face. His blue eyes gentle and full of something open and vulnerable – _hope_ , he realised. It was a stark, stark contrast to the closed off, masked man who'd turned up on their doorstep all those weeks ago, and he was acutely reminded of how far they'd come-

And how much time they'd have, now, to go even further. And he squeezed Ryan's hand and smiled back up at him.  
  


* * *

  
There was something very creepy about exploring Edgar's empty, silent base. The man might have been dead but something of his presence lingered, some lurking, unsettling evil.

But Jack felt braver now, knowing he was dead and with more manpower at his back, and they swept through the building methodically, stripping out anything they could take for themselves, leaving the rest to burn.

There were no soldiers left in the facility – they really had bled Edgar dry. They found other things, though. Two malnourished, tortured prisoners in an underground cell, too out of it to even say who they were – they helped them out of there, putting them in a car with one of their goons to drive back to the doctor in AC.

There were more bad things in the building. A torture room filled with equipment that made Jack sick to look at. Shelves and shelves of 'trophies' in Edgar's office – obviously souvenirs taken from people he'd killed, as with Ryan's team. Not just material possessions but other things. A skull. A tongue preserved in a jar. Most disturbing of all, an entire taxidermied human body mounted on his wall; Jack turned quickly away from that one.

They were all grim and silent as they worked their way through the building, but once they were outside in the fresh air their good spirits returned a little as they prepared to burn the whole fucking thing down.

“Edgar,” Geoff said then, turning to Ryan expectantly.

“Burn him too,” Ryan replied immediately.

Dan and some of the other men and women moved to retrieve the corpse from the pit. Ryan was restless as he waited, fidgety. The rain had stopped now but the sky was left, grey and miserable, hanging over them like some ghost.

“The prisoners we found in there,” Jack started, quietly, but Ryan shook his head.

“I didn't know them. I know my old team is dead, Jack – there was never any hope. You learn to let it go.”

He sounded – okay with it, actually. Accepting. And Jack nodded, suddenly dismally aware that they'd been lucky, so lucky that they hadn't lost anyone close to them in the course of this disaster.

Seeing Edgar close up was underwhelming; he seemed smaller in death, drawn out. Just a man after all. They doused him in gasoline and set him alight on the wet grass. The smell was God-awful but Ryan stood watching, even after the others moved away, eyes trained on the blackening figure like this was just as important as actually killing him. _Recompense._

It took an hour but finally nothing was left but charred bones and ashes, and Jack and Geoff watched as Ryan kicked these into the pit again, watched the last vestiges of the man who'd wronged him so terribly crumble and fall away, and walked back over to them, something tired but relieved in his eyes as he said, “ _Now_ it's over.”  
  


* * *

  
Felix's house was far enough away from Achievement City that by the time they'd finished up it would be inconvenient to meet back there, so once they were done at the abattoir they arranged to reconvene back at their first house – Geoff's manor out in the countryside. Dan would go on to Gavin's place in the city, as he'd agreed to help Geoff with some business there in the morning and it was closer.

It was funny how much returning to that old place felt like going home. It had been so long since Jack was back in his and Geoff's apartment that he almost struggled to remember what it felt like there.

They'd left this place in a rush after rescuing Gavin from Edgar, fearful he'd find them, but they returned now to find it untouched – the bombs they'd planted in the road leading to the house undetonated as well.

Tired, grimy and ready to drop, the three of them entered the house to find the lads waiting for them.

“How'd it go?” Michael asked, jumping up.

“Burned to the ground,” Geoff replied, satisfied. “Took all the shit we could.” He smiled around at them all pride in his voice as he said, “We did it, boys. That's the end of it. Job well done.”

It seemed Gavin still had the energy for a few cheers left in him; he let out a loud whoop, leaping up from the couch and doing a peculiar sort of dance that made them all laugh.

“You alright, Ray?” Ryan's voice was quiet but concerned as the celebrations died down a bit. He moved next to the other man on the couch and Ray looked up at him and smiled a bit. He looked pale and oddly drowsy, but not in pain, though his leg was stretched out ahead of him again.

“Geoff's doctor stitched me up. And I'm on the happy juice,” he added, with a lazy sort of grin.

Ryan snorted, but he looked relieved, getting to his own feet with a grimace.

“Go wash up,” Geoff ordered. “We've done enough for today. Time to rest.”

“I'll drive out to the town and get food,” Michael said, and Gavin got up to go with him. Ryan moved off towards the bathroom, Geoff grabbing the bags they'd brought back from Felix's house to take up to his room. Jack walked over to Ray on the couch – they had not had much of a chance to be alone lately. He and Geoff had spent a lot of time with Michael but Ray seemed to have decided to move things along with Ryan and Gavin first, for some reason. And Jack had been fine with that – take it in little bits and small steps, after all – but seeing Ray get shot today, knowing how much worse it could all have been had the man aimed just a little higher – it had him suddenly regretting that they hadn't spent all that much time together yet.

Because he loved Ray, as much as he loved any of the others – as much as he loved Geoff, or at least he would, he knew, as they developed this – it had always come easily for him to admit his feelings.

“How are you doing?” he asked, softly.

Ray grinned.

“I'm not in pain,” he replied, but Jack just continued to stare at him. Getting shot at was part and parcel of what they did, but that didn't mean you got _used_ to being hit by bullets – like any serious injury it could be traumatic, and after a few minutes Ray seemed to realise his concern.

“I'm fine, Jack,” he said, quietly. “It could have been way fucking worse.”

“I know,” Jack replied. He'd dream about it, he knew, the way he dreamed about all of Geoff's close shaves. “If it had... I couldn't...”

“Jack.” Ray's hand was on his knee then, turning to face him. “Chill out, dude. I didn't die. I'm not _going_ to die – not yet, at least – so we just... think about the now, not any of that _could-have_ or _might-be_ shit. That's how you do it, right? With Geoff?”

“Yeah,” Jack replied – half-distracted by Ray's thumb rubbing his knee gently through the fabric of his jeans.

“Right, so just take that and multiply it by five for the rest of us, yeah?”

“I guess it's all we can do,” Jack replied.

Ray studied him a moment and Jack tried to smile, but it faded at how serious Ray looked. After a moment the younger leaned forward and pulled Jack into a slightly awkward hug; it took Jack by surprise but they settled more comfortably when he wrapped his arms around Ray in turn.

“What's that for, then?” he asked, because there was _something_ in it, Ray quiet as though he was trying to find the right words.

“You're always the one giving,” he settled on, finally. And then, more firmly, “We'll all be fine.”

It took a moment for Jack to realise what he meant; he couldn't help smiling then, something small and self-deprecating in it; it was true, perhaps, that he seemed to spend most of his time reassuring the others, when God knew he had his own moments where he needed a little comfort, a little proof that the rest of them were all there for him too, pushing to make this work.

He squeezed Ray back, gently, before pulling away; it was Ray who leaned in to press their lips together, a brief peck of a kiss, but even that made Jack grin, glad to see him confident enough to make the first move – that was perhaps more reassuring than anything he could have said.  
  


* * *

  
That night felt strange.

They'd celebrated before going to get the gold – it felt like forever ago – but even then the threat of Edgar had hung over them. Now that was all gone – and despite how tired he was Jack couldn't help but feel oddly invigorated.

It was good to see everyone so sheerly _happy;_ the job being over seemed to have lifted years from all of their faces. Geoff smiling constantly, Gavin too, Michael and Ray incessantly cheerful. They broke out the alcohol and drank to just about everything. Every minor victory along the way. Every time Ryan had stabbed Edgar (they hadn't counted, but he estimated about eight, maybe nine – definitely more than six).

“Every time each of us fucked since we started all this,” Michael bellowed, after they started running out of ideas; he was well tipsy by now but he was _glowing_ and God it was good to unwind, properly, for once since all this had started; Jack hadn't realised how wound up all of them were until suddenly all of that had dropped from their shoulders. “Come on, 'fess up.”

“A meagre _one_ ,” Gavin replied – a little flushed by now, and he'd ended up in Geoff's lap at some point during the night – he hadn't drunk all that much but it seemed he was a bit of a lightweight.

Michael booed. “That's no fun! How many times did you munk off then?”

“What, since we started this? None!” Gavin replied – and Michael waved a rather uncoordinated finger at him.

“Fucking _liar_ , as if.”

“Bit busy to be having a wank, now wasn't I?” Gavin protested. “Besides, I don't... really like it?”

“If you don't like it you're doing it wrong,” Ray replied, looking very amused – he and Ryan were probably the only ones sober in the room; though Jack was doing well, he hadn't drunk all that much himself and was content to watch the others quietly.

“There's no wrong way to have a wank,” Gavin said, and behind him Geoff laughed.

“If anyone could fuck up rubbing one out it would be you, Gavvo.”

Michael had hopped up from his chair and wandered over to them by now. He rested his hands on Gavin's shoulders, leaned in and said, very seriously, “Gavin – Gavin – I will help you with it. Tonight, if you want.” And then attempted to kiss him, but overshot and ended up kissing Geoff instead; Geoff reached up around Gavin to clasp a hand to the back of Michael's neck and pull him in closer. They ended up like that, kissing furiously, Gavin caught between them, half-squirming to get more comfortable while also watching them intently, eyes a little glazed.

That seemed to be their cue to end the evening; Ryan got up and started clearing the table. He'd drunk too, but not excessively, and while he'd joked around with the rest of them he'd gotten quieter as the evening went on. Jack rose to help him. They worked in silence, cleaning everything up – it could have waited until morning but Jack didn't mind the routine of it. By the time they were done Michael and Geoff were in the process of trying to relocate to the bedroom without letting go of each other, and Gavin was helping Ray up, handing him his crutches.

“They off to bed then?” Jack asked, glancing over at them as they disappeared upstairs.

Ray nodded. “Apparently we're invited but I kind of just want to sleep.”

“Gav?” Jack asked, and Gavin glanced over at him and shook his head.

“I'll stick with Ray.”

“Goodnight then,” Jack said, stepping in; he and Gavin shared a slightly sloppy goodnight kiss; they were both relaxed from the drink and exhausted to boot. He ruffled Gavin's hair when he stepped back, drawing a funny sort of squawk. Ray watched in amusement before Jack leaned in to plant one on him as well.

The two of them headed off down the hall towards the stairs and Jack turned away to look for Ryan. He located him quickly, out on the porch, and frowned before heading out to join him.

“You know we don't have to keep a watch anymore,” he said, as he went outside.

Ryan turned to him, and Jack noticed that he hadn't put his mask back on after dinner.

“Force of habit,” he replied, and Jack smiled a bit, moving up next to him. They stood close, shoulders pressed together. Jack had gotten used to the other house's porch, the view of the road and the street instead of the empty farmland over here. Again he felt a strange nostalgic tug. It was weird to be back.

“You okay?” he asked quietly after a bit, looking over at Ryan.

Ryan hesitated.

“I will be.”

It was better than a lie, than a generic 'I'm fine', and Jack nodded.

“What's on your mind then?”

“Nothing,” Ryan said. “Just – he's dead. I wanted it for so long and now it's just... over, it's hard for me to wrap my head around it. Having that goal at the back of my mind for so long and now I've... I've finally done it.” He shook his head. “Like I said, I'll be fine. I just need time to process it I guess.”

“Did it feel good?” Jack asked, couldn't quite help himself.

Ryan snorted. “If I was a better person I would say no, it didn't, revenge isn't all that, blah blah fucking blah. But you know what? It felt _excellent_. I wish Lindsay and Kdin had filmed it. Stabbing that fuckhole right in the gut, watching him burn? Retribution is sweet, it turns out.”

“I'm glad then,” Jack said, and Ryan nodded.

“Me too. And it won't... it won't bring them back and maybe it won't help me sleep any better, but it's something. It's something. And all we can do is take the somethings as they come, right?”

“Right,” Jack replied, and Ryan gave a small hum; Jack reached out, then, and grabbed his hand, and Ryan looked down before lacing their fingers together, squeezing gently; it was a stupidly innocent sort of gesture but it settled something in Jack then, somehow. And the last time they had been here in this house things had been chaotic, a tangled mess, they'd barely known each other, even Michael and Ray barely on the cusp of getting together – but here they were now, holding hands, Edgar dead, the others peaceful in the house behind them, and that was something indeed.  
  


* * *

  
Ray's leg hurt. The painkillers had worn off during the night and there was a constant dull, throbbing ache in the area of the wound. Not debilitating – though it would be if he put too much pressure on it, he knew – but enough to nag at him. It was never fun getting shot, obviously, and he hadn't had more than a graze in a long while. He remembered now exactly why he hated it so fucking much.

He was distracted from the pain, however, by Gavin. Gavin who was currently straddling Ray on the bed, kissing him gently – holding himself up carefully so as not to put too much weight on him. He looked good like this, sleep-flushed, shirt hanging loose over one shoulder, beard growing out where he hadn't shaved in a few days – more relaxed than Ray had ever really seen him before. He remembered the first time they'd woken up together after Gavin joined the relationship, that cold rainy morning. Things felt different now but he didn't think it could ever possibly grow old, waking up to Gav – to any of them.

It had been strange this morning. First he hadn't realised where he was – after so long at Felix's house it had taken a moment to recognise this old place. Then, remembering why his leg hurt so much – then recalling that Edgar was dead, that it was all over. He'd gotten so used to waking up and thinking about what they had left to do that day that to have _nothing_ , to be finished, was peculiar.

But here they were now, and Gavin's mouth was working lazily against Ray's. After a minute Ray's hands came up to rest on Gavin's waist; he manoeuvred him back and off him a little until they were both sitting up. The heating was better in this house, the room a comfortable temperature as Ray let the bedsheets fall away from them. Their movements got a little more heated; the making out hadn't really been going anywhere as they were both still a bit groggy with sleep, but as Ray woke up a bit more he let his grip shift, thumbs sliding against the curve of Gavin's hipbones under his shirt, just above where his flannel pyjama bottoms sat low on his hips. It was an involuntary little action, something he'd gotten used to doing with Michael as they figured things out, but it made Gavin stiffen, pulling back a little.

“Sorry,” Ray said, automatically, but Gavin shook his head, forcing a smile. The mood had been broken a little, though, and he looked much more awake now. He didn't pull away completely, though, just sort of... sat there, staring down at the vague vicinity of their legs, occasionally rubbing Ray's shoulders where he still had a grip on them.

Ray pulled his hands out from under Gavin's shirt, settling them on his knees instead. This was obviously about his scars, or whatever – he still wasn't quite sure – and for a moment he hesitated.

Now was probably a good time to bring it up. They were alone, the threat of Edgar was over, there was no pressure on either of them, and Andrew was dead. He opened his mouth, suddenly feeling oddly nervous, but before he could say a word the bedroom door opened and Michael marched in.

“ _Rise and-_ \- oh, you're awake.” He broke off mid-holler, eyebrows raised. “Wow, you get to it early.”

“We weren't doing anything,” Gavin replied, shifting back off Ray. He was smiling, though, at the sight of Michael, who grinned back, stepping further into the room.

“Pity. I'd've asked to join in. How's the leg, Ray?”

“Think I need more painkillers. But I'll survive.”

“Gav didn't kiss it better?” Michael asked, and Gavin pulled a face.

“My mouth isn't going anywhere near a bloody gaping wound, thank you very much.”

“It's not bloody and gaping anymore,” Ray replied. “The doctor stitched it up.” He scratched at the edge of the bandage through his pants. “Still a fucking inconvenient place for an injury, though. Right through the drumstick.”

Michael shook his head, rolling his eyes. “Since you're up, get out and come eat with us. Everyone else is out there already.”

Gavin scrambled out of the bed, casting about for his jacket. Ray followed a little more slowly. They'd shaken off the slight awkwardness, Gavin turning with a laugh to try and nab Ray's crutches from where they leaned against the wall before he could – Michael jumping in to rescue them – but Ray couldn't help but watch his boyfriend's movements, wondering if he'd get another opportunity later today to bring it up.  
  


* * *

  
“There's still a bunch of shit we have to sort out back in AC,” Geoff said.

It was funny to all be sitting around the dining table having a group breakfast; it wasn't like they hadn't eaten most meals together before this but now with Edgar gone and done it felt different. Like they were on holiday. Something much more relaxed in it all.

“What sort of shit?” Michael asked.

Geoff shrugged. “Let people know we've dealt with Edgar. Check up on those people we rescued from him, see who they are. Make sure everyone's still in line, things're running smoothly. You guys don't need to come along, though, we can handle it and otherwise you'll just be standing around.”

“Dan helping you out?” Gavin asked, and Geoff nodded.

“He's helping Caleb get me some new men. We lost too many in Edgar's attacks and even with Edgar dead we can't afford to be weak now. But the rest of you should take the day off.”

The four of them glanced at each other and shrugged. Michael turned to Ray and said, “Wanna head back to our place? Bring some of our shit back over?”

Ray nodded, pausing – it hit him then that this was it, it was over, he and Michael would move back into their apartment. While part of him was looking forward to the familiarity, it was going to feel weird, not living with all the others after barely leaving their company for so many months.

“Hey, do you guys wanna come over with us?” he asked, turning to Ryan and Gavin.

Michael nodded enthusiastically, obviously liking this idea. “Oooh, yeah, you two haven't been over yet! Come visit the lad pad.”

Gavin nodded vigorously, apparently very excited by the invitation. “Yes! I must observe you in your natural habitat.”

“And then deduce every single thing about us, no doubt,” Ray groaned, but grinned, because Ryan was nodding too now and even this little thing, knowing they were coming over to visit, seemed to bridge a little of the distance he worried about in his mind – a lingering doubt of his; if he was gonna live with just Michael then their bond would grow stronger, wouldn't it, above the others – he was still a bit concerned about that, despite everything, all of Jack's reassurances.

Still, he didn't have much time or cause to worry about it; with their plans for the day sorted out conversation quickly turned to other, sillier things – like whether Felix would ever notice they'd appropriated his house, or who would win in a crutch-race between Caleb and Ray (Geoff was already planning to place bets).

“So are we all moving out tonight or what then,” Michael said, once he and Ray had packed their stuff up to take back and they were all preparing to drive back to the city together.

A slightly strained silence fell over them as they all seemed to realise this was the end of living in one house together.

“We'll meet back here tonight,” Geoff said. “We've got some ordnance stored here I need to bring back later on. Plus I need to pay you all. But after that... yeah, I guess we all just go home. I'll be organising some stuff today with bringing you all into the crew. There'll probably be a big ol' group meeting at some point.”

“Fun fun fun,” Michael said. “Remember to dig up those explosives we planted, too, otherwise next time you want to use this safe house you might forget and, y'know. Die in a horrible explosion.”

“I'll probably put you on that at some point,” Geoff replied, and Michael grinned a bit.

“I plant them, guess it's my job to unplant them. Productive day's work.”

“Hey, you're the one who agreed to work for me.” Geoff looked around at them all. “Okay, stop looking so dour, it's not like we're never gonna see each other again once we move out. It'll probably be good to have some space, too. No more being up each other's asses all the time.”

“What if we want to be up each other's asses,” Ray muttered, and Geoff grinned.

“That comes later. Let's get a move on then.”

The conversation ended there, but Ray and the other three picked it up again almost immediately when they started driving back out to Achievement City and Michael and Ray's apartment.

“Are you just gonna move back into your place, Gavin?” Ray asked – when Gavin nodded, he continued, “But where's Dan staying then? Cause he brought all his stuff over there, right?”

“Oh,” Gavin said, seeming to remember. “Uh, yeah, I guess he'll need somewhere to live now he's sticking around too.”

“He gonna live with you?”

“Maybe?” Gavin replied. “I mean, I kind of... probably don't want to be on my own.” He looked down a bit, something tense falling over him – remnants that even if Andrew was dead now not everything was sunshine and roses – Ray nodded, though, smiling.

“Fair enough. I mean, if you don't want to be alone you're always... you could stay with Michael and I. If you want.”

“Or me,” Ryan piped up.

Gavin nodded. “Thanks, but... I think I'm good with Dan. I mean, us moving in together is... it's a big step, innit? So it might be a bit soon. But Dan's gonna need somewhere to live and it's always better being in twos. We're used to living with each other anyway.”

“In your tiny flat with one bed,” Michael said, and it wasn't quite jealousy in his tone but it made Gavin smirk anyway.

“I'm sure Geoff can hook us up with a bigger place,” he replied. “I'm not attached to that one anyway.” A pause. “Wait, you two didn't fuck in my flat while we were there, did you?”

“Nooo,” Michael said, shiftily, and then roared with laughter at Gavin's affronted look. “No, seriously, we didn't. We didn't violate your sacred space, don't worry. But, I mean, if you want to christen the place before you move out...”

Gavin flushed at the thought, and Ray couldn't help but feel his heart slam a little faster as well. On the job it was hard finding the time or the inclination to actually sleep with the others, much as he might want to. They were often exhausted, which did kill the mood, or it was hard to work around with keeping watch, but now – now they had time, so much time. It was exciting to think about, to look forward to.  
  


* * *

  
“Something smells like it's burning,” Ray called out.

“Shut up,” Michael hollered back from the kitchen, “You don't know what the fuck you're talking about. Everything is fine. Everything is under control.”

Over on the couch Ryan huffed with laughter; Ray looked over at him and grinned. He looked up and smiled back, before gesturing towards the kitchen area and mouthing ' _something's definitely burning_.'

It had been a tiny bit awkward at first, that particular awkwardness that always came with inviting someone over for the first time – people unsure quite what they could touch or not, whether they should take their shoes off, no one actually knowing what they wanted to do. But they'd all gotten comfortable very quickly, devolving into a conversation about gaming when Ryan took note of all their consoles.

Now they were settled easily around the flat. Michael was making lunch in the little kitchen area – both he and Ray were generally too lazy to cook much and they didn't really keep fresh food around, so frozen pizza rolls it was. Ray was messing about on his DS over at the table, Ryan sitting on the couch sewing up a rip his jacket had sustained some time during the fight with Edgar. Ray looked over at him and got lost in the deft movements of his fingers for a moment before realising he was staring. He started to force his gaze away before he realised, hey, they were together now – it was okay – he could do what he wanted.

As it was, it was _nice_ seeing Ryan and Gavin there, in their space; they fit in easily, fluidly, and a few more of Ray's uncertainties settled. Their apartment wasn't all that far from Gavin's, after all, and Jack and Geoff's wasn't too bad of a drive either.

''Fuck,” Michael called again from the kitchen.

“Do you need help?” Ryan asked, sounding very amused.

“I'm handling it,” Michael replied. And then, a moment later, “Do you cook, Ryan?”

Ryan leaned back against the couch, eyes trained thoughtfully at the ceiling. He hadn't worn his mask all day and Ray was revelling in it, in being able to glance across and see his bare face, read his expression. His lip was a little swollen and scabbed from yesterday's fights still, another scrape cutting through the bruise on his forehead. Ray had seen Michael’s bruises earlier too; getting shot with a bulletproof vest on still left nasty impact marks, could even crack ribs. He ached to see the others still hurt but he himself had had the worst of it, he knew, and like he'd told Jack – all they could do was be glad things hadn't turned out messier.

“I have been known to make enchiladas,” Ryan replied.

“Enchiladas!” Michael exclaimed. “Fucking Master Chef over here.”

There was a noise from behind Ray and he turned to see Gavin, who'd been nosily poking about their flat since they arrived, looking at everything. He'd knocked over a figurine on a bookshelf and was setting it upright guiltily, shooting Ray a sheepish grin when he saw he'd been caught out.

“Careful with the collectibles,” Ray said.

“Your flat is so... un-classy compared to Ryan's,” Gavin replied.

“Unclassy!” Ray cried, mock-offended, and Gavin nodded.

“Yeah. Like, Ryan's was full of books and stuff, you guys are just like. Games and guns and things. Not that I'm complaining, I like games and DVDs. And your TV is pretty cool.”

“Excuse you, there's a book right next to you,” Ray said.

Gavin looked over and laughed. “The Skyrim official game guide doesn't count!”

Ray stuck his tongue out and turned back to his game. A few more long minutes passed, then out of the corner of his eye he saw Gavin drift over to the doorway of his bedroom. He looked in, obviously achingly curious, and Ray glanced over and gave him a nod. Gavin grinned and stepped inside. After a few moments Ray put down his DS and followed him.

“Having a snoop?” he asked.

Gavin jumped a bit guiltily from where he'd been picking up things on Ray's bedside table. For a brief flash of a moment Ray felt a little embarrassed by how messy his room was; he hadn't made the bed since the last time he was here with Michael when Jack and Geoff stayed over. It quickly passed, though, he'd never been one to be particularly bothered by what other people thought of him, and it wasn't like Gavin's own place hadn't been a total mess too.

“You really like games,” Gavin replied, and Ray let out a bark of laughter.

“Can't spend my whole life just shooting people. But brilliant deduction, Sherlock. You didn't gather that just from all the time we've spent together?”

“Well, yeah, but. I don't know. It's nice, seeing where you live and stuff.” He smiled and Ray smiled back, then reached back and quietly shut the door behind them. Gavin's eyes darted a bit nervously between him and the closed door, but his smile didn't fade.

“What's up?” he asked, and Ray moved to lower himself onto the bed. It was a bit of a process with the crutches but eventually he got settled and patted the mattress beside him until Gavin sat as well.

“Chill, I just wanted to talk to you alone. This morning...” he trailed off, expecting Gavin to stiffen, but he just kept watching him intently, and Ray continued on.

“If I crossed a line by trying to... touch you, or whatever, just say man. I don't want to do anything you don't want.”

“It was fine,” Gavin replied.

“Was it?” Ray prompted. “Because I still... I don't know, you know, what happened. I mean – I've worked it out, or most of it, but I still don't know exactly what happened and it seems like you've had that conversation with everyone except me.”

“I know,” Gavin replied. “Sorry, I forget sometimes – with six of us. Kinda hard to keep track of who knows what.” He bit his lip, but he didn't seem tense or nervous, really. Just a bit hesitant, like he was picking his words carefully. “There's really not much to tell. Andrew left me to Barry. Barry hurt me. They're both gone now. But the scars aren't.”

Ray reached out, letting his hand close on top of Gavin's. Gavin looked down before smiling a bit, shifting to lace their fingers together and squeeze gently.

“I don't like to show people. But it's easier, now that they're all dead. Or it should be. What's left to be scared of?”

“Them being dead doesn't mean it's all over. Ryan killed Edgar but I don't... I don't think that's gonna sort everything out for him.”

“That's true,” Gavin agreed. There was a pause before he looked up at Ray, licking his lips a bit nervously. “You want to see them?”

Some morbidly curious part of Ray wanted to say _yes_ , but he bit his tongue. He didn't need to right now, at least they'd talked about it, acknowledged it.

“Only if you want to show me,” he replied carefully, and Gavin hesitated.

“Maybe later then,” he said, and Ray let go of his hand to shoot him a thumbs up.

“Look at that. Communication.”

“Communication,” Gavin repeated with a grin. It faded after a moment, though, as he seemed to think back on their conversation. “I mean, there's more to the story but it's just – details, it doesn't really matter.”

“If it helps you to talk about it, I want to hear it,” Ray replied.

“Maybe later on that as well.”

“Well, we have a lot of time for later.”

“We do now, don't we,” Gavin agreed. He reached down and picked at the edge of his shirt. “I showed Ryan when we slept together. It wasn't as hard as I thought it would be. I think it gets easier each time. It's like that for a lot of things, you know. The more you do it the less it becomes a big thing. But you didn't do anything wrong this morning. Thanks, though. For checking.”

“Dude, I don't want to do anything that makes you uncomfortable.”

“Well, that goes both ways,” Gavin said, and fixed him with a look that was almost concerned. “I know you were kinda unsure about this stuff at first, too. Balancing it or whatever.”

“I think I'm doing okay.” He gave a soft snort. “Like, I'm worried about this all not working out, but there's nothing we can do but try, right? And we're all gonna try, so. Things should be just fine.”

“They should,” Gavin agreed. He let his hand settle on Ray's again, thumb stroking gently across his knuckles as they sat in silence for a moment.

“Good talk,” Gavin said then, brightly. “I... I talk to Ryan about this shit more than anyone else, but I'm kinda glad you asked. I probably wouldn't have brought it up myself. But I want to tell you more later.”

Ray nodded, getting what he wasn't saying. There were so many of them that it was a little hard, a little mentally straining to put too much effort into making sure you had meaningful interactions with everyone else. But looking at Gavin now it was apparent that they just had to relax, to take things at their own pace, and those interactions would come on their own; he already felt closer to the other man.

“I'm glad. Like I said, I... wasn't sure about balancing all this. If maybe you wanted to tell the others but you weren't ready to tell me yet.”

Gavin stared at him, then looked very thoughtful.

“Jack said he loves me,” he said, a little out of nowhere.

“Oh,” Ray replied, a bit surprised by the sudden switch in topic. “Did you...?”

Gavin shook his head. “I thought about it. Before we left. Like if we all died I would regret not having said it. But I couldn't do it. Guess it's lucky we _didn't_ all die then, right?”

“Right,” Ray replied, but he didn't know where this was leading to and Gavin seemed to realise that.

“I'm talking about the balancing thing,” he said. “I know you can say it to Michael but maybe not the rest of us, and maybe Jack finds it easier, and he and Geoff have traded like a thousand ' _I love you's_ already. Maybe I'll say it to just one of you first, or all of you at once, it doesn't – that stuff doesn't matter. It's just words, after all. I think we all know anyway. Like, Jack's ready to say it to me and we've spent far less time together than Ryan and I have, and I don't expect it from Ryan yet. But it's not... it's not like I mind that you know Michael way better than I do, or anything, it's... we'll get there.”

It made Ray feel oddly better to hear that Gavin, at least, wasn't worried about his relationship with Jack or Geoff despite having gotten to know Ryan better. It put him at ease as well. He jostled Gavin's shoulder.

“For someone who hasn't been in a proper relationship before this you've got some wise things to say, don't you?”

Gavin laughed. “Aha, more like for someone who's normally scared shitless of commitment I really, really want this to work out.”

“Yeah, well. Me too.”

“Which means I don't mind taking this as slow as possible,” Gavin continued.

Ray nodded; he was right, why rush things? He got up off the bed, fumbling for his crutches, and glanced at the door.

“We should probably go rejoin the others. They must think we're fucking in here.”

Gavin tittered, standing up as well. “I mean, we could've done. Looks like we both picked Ryan to make a start on with it. You know Michael's been banging Jack and Geoff, right?”

“At the same time,” Ray replied, and snorted. “Still not quite sure how that actually works. I didn't exactly watch a lot of three-way gay porn before all this.”

Gavin wrinkled his nose. “Me either. Not really my thing.”

“What, the three-way gay?” A little alarmed.

“No! The porn. It's kinda awkward, innit? Just sitting there on your own watching someone else and rubbing one out. I dunno. I grew up with siblings, okay, there wasn't much privacy.”

“Jesus, dude. You don't like porn, you don't like masturbating, what _do_ you like?”

“Proper shagging,” Gavin replied. “Which, you know, generally requires at least two people.”

That sounded a bit like an invitation, especially since he was staring at Ray intently, and Ray's grin widened. “Is that a 'maybe later' for fucking as well then?”

“Maybe _soon_ ,” Gavin replied, a smile tugging at his lips. “If you want.”

“I definitely want,” Ray said – it was easy to admit now, after this conversation, knowing that neither of them would act on it unless they were both ready, that Gavin thought there really was no rush. As it was, Gavin stepped forward and kissed him, gentle but firm. Ray wobbled a bit and dropped one of his crutches; had to grab Gavin's shoulders to keep from falling over. Gavin giggled against his lips and Ray couldn't help but laugh too as Gavin reached down to pick up the crutch. He was in high spirits when they left the bedroom to rejoin the others.

Ryan had joined Michael in the kitchen. He was leaning against the counter watching him bend to take the pizza rolls out of the oven; Ray couldn't help but notice the soft, almost fond look on the older man's face as he tracked Michael’s movements. And Michael had spent more time with Jack and Geoff than him, Ray knew, but Gavin's words had reassured him. He had no doubt that Ryan and Michael would manage to find some time together. _So don't worry about it_.

“Gav, come help me with this,” Michael said, and Gavin bounded out to the other room after him to assist in setting the table. Ryan turned towards him and smiled. God, he looked so much happier now that Edgar was dead, like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders, some stress that had been there so long Ray had barely registered it, it was so much a part of him.

“You look happy,” Ryan observed, and Ray grinned a bit.

“Spent some quality time with Gav.”

“Quality time? What does that entail?” Ryan raised an eyebrow and Ray swallowed a bit; Ryan’s voice was low, a little teasing, and he suddenly remembered the the couple of nights they had spent together. Ryan had been nervous – hid it well, outwardly confident, but Ray had seen it in how slow and careful his movements were. There had been something endearing about that. Being with Ryan had been different to Michael; the latter was familiar and everything they did felt like trying something new but in an established space, years of history under it all; with Ryan it was different, foreign.

He knew Michael had been trying things out with Jack and Geoff. The thought of himself doing the same with Michael and Ryan struck him suddenly, had his mouth dry and his heart beating a little faster. He pushed it away – _later_.

“Not banging, sadly,” he replied. “The deep-meaningful-conversation sort of quality time.”

“Ah. Still important. You find what you were looking for in these meaningful conversations?” Ryan asked.

Ray started to shrug but then stopped and thought about it. And thought about Jack suddenly, their conversation last night – how he'd wished they'd spent more time together in case something happened.

He'd been scared, at first, used to the familiarity of Michael and a bit wary about moving things along with the others even if he wanted to. But after taking things further with Ryan it had been a bit easier, taking his own steps without holding Michael's head. Like Gavin said, the more you did it, the easier it got. They'd get there.

“You know, I think I did,” he said, and Ryan smiled, and nodded, and held out a hand, leading him back out to join the others.  
  


* * *

  
The day had been tiring and by the time they got back to the house Jack felt strangely nervous. He knew, innately, that this was not the end of things, that paying the others would not mean going their separate ways. But the house was packed up and mostly dark when they returned, and their own belongings were waiting by the door ready for them to take back to their apartment. It would be hard getting back into the swing of things.

They stood around in the dining room, heavy bags of cash sitting in the middle of the table, an odd silence falling over them. Jack remembered the first night here, months ago now, as they began to make their plans to take down Edgar. Now as they stood waiting to dish out the money he had the same feeling of buzzing contentment that they always got after finishing a heist, as the adrenaline began to run down replaced with a tired sort of satisfaction, the knowledge that they had moved up a little in their world. Another reckless victory. That they'd survived.

“Michael, that's for you,” Geoff said, sliding one of the bags across the table towards him. “Check the statement, there's extra for some of the ordnance you had to provide. Count it up to make sure it's all in there.”

Michael glanced at the bag and shrugged. “Nah, I trust you.”

Jack couldn't help but grin; once they would have been checking and double checking to make sure they hadn't been ripped off. As it was, Geoff shook his head.

“Check it anyway, I might have messed up accidentally. Ray, that's for you. You two know what you're doing with getting this in the bank if you want it there?”

“Yes, Geoff,” Ray replied patiently. “We have been doing this for years.”

“Just looking out for you,” Geoff said.

“And he calls _me_ a mother hen,” Jack muttered, and Ryan shot him an amused look.

“Wait, so all the rest of that is for Gavin?” Michael demanded, looking up. “That fucking bag's bigger than he is!”

“I have a _specialised skill set,_ Michael,” Gavin replied smugly.

“No one's gonna hire you if you're so expensive.”

“It's called _economics_ you mug. High demand, low supply. Do you need me to draw you a bloody diagram-” he broke off with a squawk when Michael curled an arm around him, pinching at his side. “Ah – stop, that tickles!”

“Why don't you pay me to stop?” Michael taunted, but did release him. He turned back to his own payment and then grimaced as he realised the distraction had made him lose count. “Fuck, gotta start again now.”

“There's extra in there for you too, Gav,” Geoff replied.

“Is it the ' _sleeping with my boss_ ' bonus?” Ray asked, and Gavin shook his head.

“No, Michael got that.”

“It's the _'I promised you wouldn't have to go into the field but then you had to anyway_ ' bonus,” Geoff replied, with a bit of a grin. “As compensation for all the shit you really didn't sign up for.”

“Where's my ' _I got fucking shot_ ' bonus, then?” Ray muttered, then laughed when they all looked at him with something like concern. “Relax, I'm joking, you paid for the doctor, so.”

“So where's my money?” Ryan asked, jokingly, and Geoff elbowed him.

“We didn't technically hire you. You just... showed up.”

“But where's my ' _I nearly got shot saving your boyfriend_ ' compensation?”

“It is void, because my boyfriend is now your boyfriend too,” Geoff pointed out, but laughed, turning to grab the front of Ryan's jacket and tug him down to his height. “I'll pay you in-”

“Blowjobs!” Ray cried, and Geoff snorted.

“I _was_ gonna say kisses, but sure, that too.”

“Kisses are fine with me,” Ryan said, reaching up to clasp Geoff's face. Jack watched the two of them kiss, a small smile on his face, wondering yet again at just how much he hadn't anticipated this when they started out. He still remembered seeing Ryan walk into their flat, the alarm he'd felt – alarm that had vanished entirely now, nothing but a warm sort of fuzziness swelling up in his chest.

Ryan and Geoff pulled apart, both smiling, and Ryan turned to Jack then, reeling him in next. Jack couldn't help but laugh as Ryan pecked his lips quickly, then his cheek, then his lips again, little brief brushes that made him chuckle at how soft and light they were.

“Satisfactory payment?” Jack asked, when they broke apart. Ryan smiled at him. In the dim yellow lighting, the room lamplit against the dark winter evening, he looked softer somehow, younger.

“I don't know,” Ryan replied. “I did put myself in _many_ dangerous situations for you guys.”

Jack grinned, hand curling around the back of Ryan's neck to pull him in again, only to stop when the lads began to make spluttering raspberry noises.

“Look at these sappy old people,” Michael crowed, and Geoff shot him the finger.

“Are you lot done yet, or are you still struggling to count past ten?”

“I'm done,” Michael replied, shoving the last stacks of cash into his bag and zipping it up. Ray nodded too, but Gavin shot a guilty look at Geoff, and he rolled his eyes.

“Really, Gav? You seriously can't count it?”

“Bloody distracted me with all your snogging, didn't you? I lost track, I need to start again now.”

“Let me help you with it,” Geoff sighed, striding over.

They all ended up having to help, because there was a rather large quantity of money and Gavin had an unfortunate habit of not stacking it neatly as he counted, so it took them several go-arounds because they kept getting confused.

“Six professional criminals should not have this much trouble counting cash,” Ray grunted, when they had finally confirmed that Geoff had indeed not ripped Gavin off. “Dude, don't just shove it in, the bag won't close. You have to stack it. You'd think you'd never done this before.”

“I normally get the money transferred digitally,” Gavin replied. “I can cover it up so it can't be traced.”

“Why the fuck didn't you tell me that before I went and rounded up all this cash for you?” Geoff muttered, shouldering Gavin aside to zip the bag up for him. “There. Are we done? Are we finally fucking done?”

“We're done,” Michael replied.

“Great. Let's go home then.”

They headed for the door, but it wasn't until the house was dark and locked up and they were all standing about in the front drive that it seemed to hit them all that this was it, they were going home for good now.

Geoff cleared his throat loudly.

“Like I said before,” he said. “You all need to stop looking like someone's kicked your puppy.”

“Or kitten,” Gavin piped up, and Geoff sighed fondly.

“Or kitten. We're not gonna never see each other again. Fuck, tomorrow afternoon you all come over to my apartment, eh? We're taking the day off, I'll grill you a steak; I sorted out enough shit today that I can afford a break. And then we'll plan the holiday we're all gonna take, or maybe we'll just sit around making out, and by the end of the week I'll have sorted everything out with bringing you guys into the crew. You're going home tonight to sleep in your own beds but I will literally see you tomorrow. Okay? Or will you all be unable to bear one night without my company?”

“I'll miss seeing your moustache all droopy in the morning,” Gavin piped up, and Geoff reached out and flicked his nose.

“You're one to talk, Bed Hair. I mean it, though.”

Michael nodded, looking a lot less worried now.

“We'll all see each other tomorrow,” he repeated, and Geoff nodded.

“Come here, then,” he said, and pulled each of the others in for a quick kiss on the lips. Jack was hovering, about to do the same, when Ryan chuckled.

“If we do this every night we'll accumulate hours of kissing. There's... fifteen different combinations.”

“How did you do that maths so fast?” Gavin demanded, and Ryan blinked at him.

“It's... it's really, really simple probability? But I shouldn't expect anything from someone who can't even count money,” he added, and they all laughed, Gavin giving an indignant shout. Ryan ruffled his hair and picked up his money bag for him; it was heavy and obnoxiously large. “Come on, Gav, I'll drive you back to your place.”

That was their cue to break apart towards their separate cars. As Jack he settled down in the passenger seat Geoff leaned across and planted a firm kiss on his cheek; he looked up and saw the others in their cars, Gavin waving frantically at Michael through the window, Ray blowing kisses at all the rest of them. It made him smile, and maybe he felt a little tired, a little sad at the thought of spending a night apart from all the rest of them for the first time in a long time, but it was reassuring to know they'd meet up again tomorrow. And pulling away from the dark house, each car turned onto the road and they began to drive back to Achievement City together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last proper chapter; there'll be a slightly shorter epilogue up in a couple of days :)


	30. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some [amazing freewood fanart ](http://birdchievements.tumblr.com/post/109169555977/were-going-to-be-caught-anyway-ryan-replied) by birdchievements. Love it <3
> 
> Another [beautiful freewood piece ](http://birdchievements.tumblr.com/post/109455873337/what-gavin-asked-a-little-flustered) by birdchievements omg thank you so much~
> 
> icanfeeltheearthturn drew this [amazing cover ](http://icanfeeltheearthturn.tumblr.com/post/110216192106/if-you-like-achievement-hunter-as-much-as-i-do) thank you~ <3
> 
> geoffsarms drew an [awesome Ryan fanart ](http://geoffsarms.tumblr.com/post/110261563902/the-mad-mercenary-fanart-of) ahhh thanks!!~ <3
> 
> castieltheflyingassbutt drew this [super cool fanart](http://whalehuntingboyfriends.tumblr.com/post/123854239604/castieltheflyingassbutt-a-piece-based-on-the), and flightless-13 drew an [incredible group shot](http://whalehuntingboyfriends.tumblr.com/post/121096510884/flightless-13-gavin-raised-his-own-glass-to), thank you both so much <3
> 
> bartholomewrose made [a fanmix](http://8tracks.com/bartholomewrose/prison-break) inspired by the fic, [so did vakkarian](http://8tracks.com/vakkarian/we-can-t-fall-any-farther), and sawberry0029 made [this one](http://8tracks.com/sawberry0029/i-d-light-myself-on-fire-if-meant-burning-anyone-who-hurt-them), thank you all <3
> 
> A wonderful [ fanmix ](http://8tracks.com/airrichan/when-the-crew-comes-to-town) by airrichan, [ one](http://8tracks.com/parkguardian/fun-with-fatality) by parkguardian, [ another](http://8tracks.com/lagomorphic/our-crew-the-great-sealand-takeover) by icanfeeltheearthturn and [ another](http://8tracks.com/everythingcanadian/take-edgar-burn-him-to-the-ground) by everythingcanadian. Thank you all so much~

**Epilogue**

The hot sun beat down on Ryan as he pulled his motorbike up in the quiet little parking lot. It was getting far too warm to wear leather around, his mask uncomfortably tight around his face, sticking a little at the back of his neck with sweat.

Spring had come early and with force. He could smell pollen, the air warm and dry now. In the distance the tall buildings of Achievement City's CBD stretched out against the the clear blue sky. He swung off the bike and headed up to the building behind the car park.

This place was currently serving as Geoff's main base. Ryan strode up to the doors, fishing his key from his pocket as he went, only to pause at the doorstep, shooting a glance up towards the security camera trained down towards him. He gave a jaunty wave, then pressed his fingers to his lips over his mask, miming blowing a kiss up towards the camera. He knew Gavin was watching. It had become a little routine of theirs.

It was cold inside the building, the slightly artificial chill of air conditioning turned right up. He stepped in through the foyer, passing by several office areas. Lindsay was sitting at her computer, working away, but she looked up as he passed her door and waved. Ryan waved back.

“Everything go well, Haywood?” she called out, and he nodded.

“We'll have the weapons by Tuesday.”

“Sweet.” She shot him a thumbs-up before turning back to her computer; Ryan smiled a bit behind his mask.

It had been a few months now since he became an official part of Geoff's crew. The first several weeks of that had been light, holiday time, resting up after Edgar – but it hadn't been long before they all started itching to get back to work. Their job was like that, you got used to it. The rush, the adrenaline. The break had been nice but Ryan was enjoying this too, working for people he actually _liked_ instead of skipping from job to job all over the country.

And being with the others, of course.

To most of Geoff's hired guns and groundsmen he maintained his intimidating stance as the mad mercenary. Still wore the mask around them, more for dramatic effect and out of habit than anything else now. But the inner circle of the crew – Lindsay, Kdin, Caleb, Kerry, Dan now too – he'd opened up to them a little. It hadn't been hard, they were good people and obviously very close to Geoff, and while it had taken a while for them to warm up to each other, they were on surprisingly good terms now. That had been a trip; it was one thing for him to get close to Geoff and the others, another to start making friends outside of that little close-knit circle.

But Lindsay in particular had bonded very quickly with him, and he – he _liked_ it here, he realised, more than he had ever liked working on his own. As much as he'd enjoyed working with his old team.

He swallowed, mouth suddenly dry. _My old team_.

His stomach had been churning all day; there was something he'd been... planning, sort of, meaning to bring up with the others, and today all the pieces had finally come together. He'd been sent out on a job that morning, preparation for a little heist they were pulling in a fortnight's time. Their first since they all joined the crew.

But he was back here now, ready to talk to the others for the first time that day, and he moved deeper into the building to find them.

He headed for Geoff's office, knowing he would probably be in there – Jack too – only to pause when Dan stepped out, calling out the tail end of a conversation over his shoulder into the room. He shut the office door behind him and paused when he saw Ryan.

“Hey,” he called out, and Ryan raised a hand in greeting.

“Hey, Dan.”

“You going in to see Geoff?”

Ryan nodded, and Dan started to walk by him only to pause.

“Alright? You seem tense. Something go wrong on the job?”

Ryan couldn't help but smile a bit. Dan might still be closest to Gavin – they still lived together, though Geoff had managed to find them a bigger place – but he'd been steadily bonding with the others as well, and there was something nice about the fact that he'd paid enough attention to Ryan's little cues to know something was up even with his mask on.

He shook his head. “I'm fine. Just gotta talk to Geoff about something.”

“Something bad?” Dan asked, brows furrowing, but Ryan shook his head.

“Nah. Something good.” Another squirm of nervousness – and it was silly, he knew, but he couldn't help it; he'd been planning this for some time. A vague thought at first but when he started actually thinking about it properly he'd realised it was something he wanted to do. It wasn't until this morning when he realised everything was ready that he'd starting wondering if it was such a good idea, but he'd never been one to chicken out of things at the last second.

“Okay,” Dan said, still sounding a bit dubious. “Gav's in his room if you want him.”

“Thanks, I do. Is Jack in there with Geoff?”

“Yeah. Michael's in the boardroom, Ray's outside.” Dan seemed struck by a thought suddenly, pulling a face. “Wait, I got it. You want to finally all fuck six of you at once, that's what you're asking Geoff!”

“What? No!” Ryan couldn't help but laugh. “Gavin tells you far too much about our sex life.”

“Trust me, I wish he wouldn't. I think I know more about your dick than my own.”

“All good things I hope,” Ryan said, and Dan grinned.

“Yeah, he's very impressed. But it doesn't take much. Low standards, that one.”

“Oh, thanks. Don't you have work to be doing? Heist coming up and all.”

Dan nodded, moving off past him, and Ryan couldn't help but smile after him. It faded as he gathered himself to head into Geoff's room, a tense sort of buzz starting up in his stomach again. A silly one, though, like fucking butterflies or something, and he swallowed it down, rapping on the door before opening it and stepping in.

Geoff and Jack were sitting behind Geoff's desk; they'd obviously been expecting him, having heard his voice outside.

“Hey! How'd it go?” Geoff asked.

Ryan pulled off his mask with one hand, shot a thumbs-up with the other. “Good. We'll have the weapons in time for the heist.”

“Great,” Geoff replied, and grinned, wide and excited. They were all pumped up for this job; they'd done little things around the crew but nothing big so far. Ryan couldn't help but look forward to it himself. He'd rather missed working properly alongside Michael, Ray and the others.

“Sit down?” Jack said, jerking a head towards the other chair, but Ryan shook his head.

“I... I wanted to talk to you guys, actually,” he began, and licked his lips, hating how his mouth had gone suddenly dry. _Stop it. Stop it, you're being stupid_ . He didn't usually do _nervous_ but this was – a big thing, for him, silly as it was, and he saw Jack and Geoff exchange a concerned glance.

“Ry, is something wrong?” Jack asked, softly, and Ryan shook his head.

“No! No, I just. There's something I wanted to give you guys.” The words came out in a rush and before he could second-guess himself he was reaching into his pocket, hand closing around the familiar items. He pulled them out and dropped them into Jack's palm before he could think about it too much.

Jack stared down at the two rings. They were fairly modest, one black band and one silver, a few simple patterns engraved around each. Geoff leaned forward to look and frowned a little, obvious confusion on his face.

“Ryan...” Geoff trailed off, looking up at the other man with a slightly befuddled expression. “Is this... oh my God, you're not _proposing_ , are you?”

“What? No!” Ryan replied, and began to laugh, a bit hysterically. “God, no, this isn't... No. That's not what I'm doing here at all, oh Christ.”

Geoff laughed too, but Jack just turned the rings over in his hands, frowning a bit, obviously trying to put the pieces together.

“What is this, then?” Geoff asked.

“A... gesture,” Ryan replied, suddenly nervous again because _okay, okay, this is a – step, of some sort, I haven't..._

It had been a few months but it was still a struggle, some days. Most of the time it was good, smooth sailing, all uphill progress, but there were nights when he'd dream of Edgar or wake up alone in his apartment seized with a sudden fear that something had happened to the others, would frantically text them to make sure they were okay. Days when he second-guessed whether it was worth it, getting so close to everyone, taking the risk that they'd get hurt and then _he'd_ get hurt – he hated himself for those thoughts, but they were still _there_ , lurking, and there were still three words that hadn't passed his lips, that he just couldn't bring himself to say, to make official even if everything else was official by now.

But this was a _start_ , a start he needed to make things easier – _the first leap of faith_ , he remembered telling Gavin, what felt like long ago now – and he swallowed, pressing on.

“They belonged to my old team,” he said, more confidently. “They were in that bag of stuff Edgar gave me, you remember? I... I want you two to have them.”

Jack's eyes widened, even Geoff fell still, both of them looking down at the rings again with this new information in mind.

“Ryan...” Jack's voice was quiet, a little awed. He passed the black ring to Geoff and turned the silver one over in his hands. “These mean a lot to you, are you...?”

“I'm sure,” Ryan said, firmly. He took a deep breath. “I'll tell you about them, later. Who they belonged to, what they... what they mean, sort of. Later tonight. But... I really do want you to have them. I think you _should_ have them.”

He saw the two of them exchange a glance. He still hadn't talked about his old team with the others, except in vague mentions, letting it slip out occasionally – but never their names, never properly speaking about them. And that had been fine, he was healing slowly, he knew, now that Edgar was gone, now that he wasn't alone, but it was a step he wanted to take as well, and again – this was a start.

“Thank you,” Jack said, earnestly. He slipped his onto the middle finger of his right hand; Geoff's was a little smaller, he fit it onto the pinky of his left.

Ryan's stomach clenched a bit at the sight of the jewellery in use again. He had spent a long time over the last few weeks just looking at them, wondering whether this was a good idea, whether he should just pack all of his old team's things away and never look at them again. If that might make him feel better.

But he'd decided on this instead, and it – it was working, or he thought it was, anyway. Seeing the rings on Jack and Geoff felt a little like moving on, like finally reconciling his old team and this new family in his mind, and when he smiled the other two smiled back. He knew they understood the significance of this gesture. That maybe he had never said _I love you_ yet but that this said it more than anything else.

Jack stood up then, stepped over to him. Ran his hands down Ryan's arms before reaching up to clasp his face. Ryan could feel the cool metal of the ring against the skin of his cheek as Jack pulled him in for a soft, slow kiss. He let himself relax into it, could still feel his heart thundering in his chest as Jack pulled away and smiled.

“Come over tonight,” he murmured, and Ryan nodded; he'd kept to his own flat the last week or so, needing space as he mulled over what he was doing with his old team's belongings. But now he missed the others with a fierce sort of ache, that settled a bit when Geoff got up to kiss him too.

 

* * *

 

Ray was sitting on a bench out the back of the building, in a small shaded courtyard area. There was a half-eaten sandwich on the seat next to him but he appeared to have been distracted from his lunch. He was tracking a pigeon across the ground through the sight of his pistol when Ryan came up behind him.

“Please don't kill the pigeon,” Ryan said. They'd joked since Edgar that he himself had a penchant for animal murder, but it was quite different seeing it in real life. Ray lowered his gun and turned to him with a grin.

“But Ryan, they're vermin. Rats with wings.”

“You shoot that pigeon and then... what? What will we do with it? Bury it? Eat it?”

“Just throw it in the garbage,” Ray replied, but put the gun down, picking up his sandwich again. “I was just thinking, they might make good target practice. I'm gonna teach Gav to shoot.”

“Do not try and get Gavin to shoot the pigeons,” Ryan said, and Ray laughed.

“Aren't you gonna kiss me hello?” he asked, and Ryan pulled a face.

“You're literally talking to me through a mouthful of tuna,” he replied, and leaned in to press a kiss to the top of Ray's head instead before sitting down next to him. His gaze dropped down to Ray's thigh; his legs were stretched out in front of him. He'd healed up well since getting shot. The rest had helped and they were all well versed in what PT to do to avoid any lasting damage. He'd be fine by the time they pulled the heist.

“I have a present for you,” he said then, and Ray raised his eyebrows.

“Is it that hot pink rocket launcher we were looking at?” he asked, eagerly, and Ryan barked out a laugh.

“No. Hold out for next Christmas on that one.” He felt that thrum of nerves again as he took the knife from his belt and handed it over to Ray.

The moment Ray's fingers closed around the hilt he saw the other man's face fall slack in surprise as he realised what it was. He turned it over in his hands almost reverently. Ran a finger down the flat side of the restored blade.

“You got it fixed,” he spoke up, voice a bit strained, unsure, and Ryan nodded.

“Yeah. I did.”

Ray was holding the knife a bit awkwardly now, as though unsure what to do with it, and Ryan huffed out a laugh.

“I'm giving it to you, Ray, that's the gift.”

“I... Ryan, I don't... this is yours. You should keep it.”

“No, you should have it.” It was easier this second time, after already going through this with Jack and Geoff. “My old crew was small. They didn't know much. They were in way the fuck over their heads when I met them. But I built them up, I... taught them, sort of. It wasn't something I was used to but I... I like to think I got the hang of it. And I've taught you some shit as well, or at least, I think I have, so.”

“Is this, like, Obi Wan Kenobi giving Luke his lightsaber,” Ray said, and Ryan laughed.

“In a way.”

“Thank you, Ryan. I mean it.” Ray adjusted his grip on the hilt of the knife, weighed it in his hand. He turned to Ryan with a shy sort of smile. “Possibly the most meaningful present someone's ever given me.”

“Just possibly?”

“It's hard to beat the limited edition Waluigi figurine of two Christmases ago. Michael knows what gets me going.” He grinned. “No, I'm joking, this is... it means a lot.”

“Alright, let's not get sappy.” A warm rush of relief was spreading through Ryan's chest now, though; as with the rings the sight of the blade in Ray's hand was almost cathartic. The woman it had belonged to before at the back of his mind. And he'd been worried, a little, that giving it away might feel like forgetting its old owner, but it didn't feel like that at all, more like – passing on a legacy, at least putting their old possessions to use again. He thought they'd probably be happy with that.

“Gonna have to buy you roses now,” Ray said. “Also, please don't give me your mask next because I refuse to wear it.”

“I'll get you your own mask,” Ryan replied, “We can match.”

“Make it one of those Venice ones. They're creepy as shit.”

“Okay. Santa Claus needs to move on to his next target now. Goodbye young padawan.” He patted Ray's shoulder as he stood up; Ray caught his hand and tugged him back down, pressing a light kiss to his lips before letting him go.

“Later, Master Haywood.”

 

* * *

  
  
Kdin was in the boardroom with Michael when Ryan arrived, the two of them looking over some blueprints of the bank they were planning to hit. Ryan had put his mask back on – the rest of Geoff's crew still hadn't seen his face yet, and part of him wanted to keep it that way at least a little bit longer – but Kdin saw the way his eyes darted meaningfully to Michael and quickly caught on, murmuring an excuse and making himself scarce.

“Hey you,” Michael said, turning towards him. “Why'd you scare off Kdin?”

“Needed to see you alone.” He shut the door, took his mask off. Michael turned to lean against the table, arms folding.

“Geoff specifically said no fucking in the boardroom.”

“Not about fucking.”

“Well that's disappointing. I was about to say, he didn't mention blow jobs.” Michael grinned wickedly and Ryan couldn't help but grin back. The two of them had gotten a lot closer recently; he quite often spent nights over at Michael and Ray's flat, as it was closer to this building than his was. And Michael had always been one of the easiest for him to get along with – for all of them to. His straightforwardness, his openness, had been welcome as they tried to figure all this out, making him in some ways the strongest link between them all. That was part of the reason Ryan had chosen to give him what he did; he pulled out the gold jewellery chain and reached out, pressing it into Michael's hand.

He hadn't shown Michael the things Edgar had given him, but he knew Ray had told him about them. It took a moment for it to click, Michael running the chain through his fingers in confusion before his eyes widened.

“Is this...?"

“Yeah.”

Michael stared at the chain for a long moment, then looked up at Ryan intently. Ryan could see him thinking, processing it. Then he said, “Okay. I'm guessing you've been giving this stuff to the others as well?”

Ryan smiled, looking away a bit; it was easier to explain with Michael than the others, he knew he'd get it without him having to get into the details.

“I wanted to do something with them. This felt right.”

“Ryan.” Michael's voice was quieter, more serious than usual. “Are you sure about this? Because this... this stuff is special, I know, and your old team... we don't know anything about them. Are you certain this is what you want to do with their stuff?”

“I want you to know more about them,” Ryan replied. And that was more an admission that he was serious about this relationship than anything else he could have said, and he could see that Michael knew that. “And I'm certain. They're either gonna sit around gathering dust or I'd've had to... destroy them, or something. Either way, this gives me much more closure. You already became a part of this all by helping me kill Edgar. I think I'd like to... to see you guys using their things. I think that would help.”

“Okay,” Michael said. And smiled, then. He looped the chain a few times and then slid it on over his wrist; Ryan had had the broken part fixed. It was a sturdy thing, didn't usually break easily. He reached out and took Michael's hand, turning his arm. Liked the look of the shimmer of gold peeking out from just under his sleeve.

“You would have got on with them really well,” he said, something wistful in it. Michael bit his lip, looking almost upset suddenly at this mention of Ryan's loss, something he normally didn't reveal at all.

“You think so?” he asked, voice a bit thick, and Ryan nodded. He pulled Michael in to kiss him, felt the other's lips move frantically against his, teeth scraping gently against his bottom lip. Michael's hands came up, clutching at the front of Ryan's jacket, holding him desperately close. Some days this thing between them all felt too fragile but here, now, it seemed strong and unbreakable and any doubts about this all had fled Ryan's mind by the time Michael pulled away.

“You're just going around getting kisses from everyone, aren't you?” Michael asked, and Ryan chuckled.

“That might be part of it, yeah.”

“Who's left?"

“Just Gav,” Ryan replied. Michael raised his eyebrows.

“What's he getting, then?”

Ryan pulled it out and showed him, and Michael stared for a moment before breaking out into startled laughter.

“Fuck, that's perfect.”

 

* * *

 

Gavin's computer room was towards the back of the building, an expansive room with big windows leading out to the courtyard to keep the equipment in there from overheating. He was working when Ryan stepped in – had a lot to do to prepare for the heist – but he'd seen Ryan approaching on one of the cams and turned as soon as he appeared in the doorway.

“Hey! Saw you come back,” Gavin said, and Ryan nodded, stepping up to him. The kiss was familiar, routine, but no less pleasing for that; Gavin was smiling when he pulled away and Ryan couldn't help but grin down at him.

The last few months of rest and light work had been good to all of them. And there were little slip ups, sure. Sometimes Ryan would wake in the middle of the night gasping, would forget whether he'd actually killed Edgar or not, would struggle to remind himself that it was actually over, that he really was dead. He knew Gavin was the same with Barry and Andrew. But for the most part, both of their sleeping habits had improved, Gavin's especially. He was practically glowing nowadays – more confident, less tired. Less waifish now that he was taking care of himself instead of sitting in a slump all day as he had been before Geoff employed him.

“I also saw you and Michael necking in the boardroom,” Gavin added, and Ryan realised that meant Gavin had been watching him give the gifts to the others. He didn't normally monitor everything going on in the building, but when he did he missed nothing.

“You know why I'm here, then,” he said, and Gavin nodded, biting his lip.

“Does it help?” he asked, simply, and Ryan didn't have to hesitate before he nodded.

“Yes,” he said, with certainty. “It helps.”

“Okay,” Gavin replied, and grinned. “Well, whatcha got for me then?”

“Close your eyes,” Ryan said, and Gavin looked mildly alarmed for a moment, as though he feared he was about to be pranked. But he closed his eyes obediently, and Ryan couldn't help but snicker as he reached forward and gently placed a pair of sunglasses on Gavin's nose, sliding the legs in over his ears. Gavin opened his eyes at the feeling of something being put on his face. He blinked a few times at the sudden darkness of the room before looking up at Ryan with a smile.

“You got them fixed!”

“Wasn't about to give you broken ones,” Ryan replied – and that had been cathartic, too, the items being repaired. Taking away the memory of what Edgar had done to them. Making them whole again.

Gavin took the sunglasses off and inspected them. He let out a low hum.

“These are well expensive,” he said quietly, then looked over at Ryan. “You do realise I spend most of our job indoors, right?”

“Pretty sure that hasn't stopped you from wearing sunnies before,” Ryan replied, and Gavin laughed.

“I was joking that time.”

“You still looked like a douche,” Ryan replied, and grinned. “It's okay, though. The guy these belonged to was kind of a douche as well. But my douche. Just like you are.”

“How romantic,” Gavin said, lips twitching up into a smile.

“Also,” Ryan continued, “You know Geoff doesn't like you being out where you can get recognised. Just stick these on whenever you have to go out in the field with us. People won't be able to see your face. Like those celebs who hide from the paparazzi, except we're hiding you from people who want to shoot you with guns, not cameras.”

It was testament to how far Gavin had come that he laughed at that joke instead of reacting with alarm at the prospect of people targeting him; it was true, though, that while they'd all kept their relationship under wraps for now – the rest of Geoff's inner circle knew, Lindsay and the others, but no one else – it was mostly Gavin who they were most careful about, as he was the obvious weak link to get at, the easiest to catch if someone realised just how much they all meant to Geoff.

“Thanks Ryan! They're top,” Gavin said, putting the sunglasses back on. Ryan couldn't help but grin to look at him; there was something very distinctive about the way the shades looked on Gavin. The same way he had his mask and Geoff always wore a suit when he went out to fuck with someone or something. Ray with his purple hoodie, Michael with his leather jacket. Jack's beard.

“Just don't wear them at night and break your ankle,” Ryan said, reaching out to mess his hair. Gavin squawked, ducking away, frantically smoothing it back down before he pranced forward and leaned up to kiss Ryan; Ryan wrapped his arms around his waist, tugging him in closer. The sunglasses bumped against his cheek as Gavin turned to switch angles, and Ryan couldn't help but laugh against the other's lips.

His phone buzzed in his pocket between them, and Gavin reached in to pull it out.

“Geoff wants us in the boardroom,” he said, and Ryan nodded. He looked at Gavin again and couldn't help but smile and shake his head. The fucking sunglasses. Something about his face suited them well, but it was just so strange to see him wearing them indoors.

“Come on then. Go model these for the others.”

Gavin laughed. His hand caught Ryan's as they headed out of the room, and Ryan didn't mind linking their fingers together as they made the short trip down the corridor.

The others were all waiting in the boardroom when they arrived, standing around the table, looking at the maps and blueprints. Michael was explaining something to Geoff – had obviously made some adjustment to the plan with Kdin before that he was running by their leader now – but they all looked up when Ryan and Gavin opened the door.

“Dude,” Ray said immediately upon noticing Gavin. “Vav. Sweet shades, man.”

“Thanks, X-Ray,” Gavin chirped. “Ryan gave them to me.”

Geoff was grinning, Jack too, but he shushed Gavin and pointed at the map.

“We can chat in a minute, we need to go over this first. Michael thinks it might be better to have someone up on the roof of this building..."

Ryan tuned in, paying close attention as Geoff explained the changes to the plan. He hadn't pulled a heist in a while. Most of the jobs he'd been on before Edgar popped up again were bounties and hits, or higher-end robbery jobs, not this. As Geoff ran through the main points of their scheme, including the new changes, he couldn't help but feel another thrill of nervous excitement, feeling properly now like part of the crew. And he could read it in the others' faces as well; before this Geoff had mostly used Jack and hired mercs to pull his jobs. But now they had this, their _team_ , and there something far more intimate about it. It would be novel to be pulling a job with people he knew, _trusted_ , instead of random gatherings of hired guns who looked upon him with fear.

He remembered the easy fluidity to how they had worked together back at the abattoir. And it would be foolish to fall into the trap of feeling unstoppable just because they were together, but he felt _confident_ , ready to tackle anything with these men by his side, and he felt himself getting hyped up as Geoff spoke. He was buzzing by the time they were done, looking around at the rest of the crew, each of them ready to play their roles, to pull this off – something with far less weight than their mission to kill Edgar, something they could be _excited_ about.

And excited they were; they were all grinning stupidly at each other the minute Geoff finished outlining. Even Gavin, who wouldn't be out in the field with them, was beaming, and Michael turned to him and reached up to pinch at his cheek.

“What're those on your face then, boi?” he asked, teasing more than anything – Ryan had shown him the glasses earlier.

Gavin put his fingers to the legs of the sunglasses and flicked them up and down on the bridge of his nose. “Ryan gave me these! They are world class and I shall never take them off hereafter.”

Geoff shook his head fondly. “You're not wearing the glasses in bed.”

“Watch me,” Gavin replied fiercely, and Ryan couldn't help but laugh.

“Ryan has spoiled all of us today,” Jack said, holding up a hand and turning the ring on his finger.

“You can say that again. Look, Ray, new bling,” Michael said, extending his wrist to his boyfriend. Ray nodded approvingly, glancing over to meet Ryan's eyes and shoot him a smile.

And suddenly they were all looking at him, something very soft and warm in their eyes. _Love_ in their faces, in his too, probably, as he looked back at them.

Ryan didn't know what to say.

What he did know was that even without words they understood what this meant, what he was saying by these gestures. All he could do was smile at the sight, the six them here together, his old team's possessions in their hands and on their bodies. _This is us, we'll do okay now,_ doubts gone and he believed it. And that made something well up in his chest, something that nearly hurt with its intensity.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And thus it ends aha.
> 
> Thank you so much to all of you; I never imagined starting this story that it would get so long, or that so many people would manage to get something out of it. I’m so grateful to all of you for your support and encouragement; I really do appreciate every comment or kudos or message on tumblr and it kept me writing the whole time.
> 
> Especial thanks to the regular commenters and the people who have been here from the very start. There are too many of you to list and I wouldn’t want to accidentally miss somebody, but I’ve loved seeing your familiar names in my inbox and I’m really glad we could sort of get to know each other through the story!
> 
> All the love to Kayla aka Angelology. I would probably never have written or posted this without her and she stuck with me the whole time and helped so much with ideas/proofreading <3 
> 
> It feels really strange to be finished after so long, but I’m excited to move on to new projects and stuff now! In a few days prompts will be open over on my tumblr (whalehuntingboyfriends) and there’s going to be a couple of fills for prompts people have already sent in that are set in the Sealand verse.
> 
> Non-‘canon’ prompts are the only other thing I’m going to write for this story. **There will not be a sequel.**
> 
> Again, thank you so much - it really has been a journey writing this and I’m so glad all of you came with me. <3 <3 <3

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